


The Nation's Sweetheart

by Snowy38



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol use/misuse, All The Love, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Skating, Injured Harry, Jealousy, M/M, Media/Press, Physiotherapist Louis, Poor Louis, Rich Harry, Smidge Of Angst, ice skater harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-04-06 05:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 77,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14049840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: In limped a graceful giant; slim bodied but broad shouldered with thick thighs. Harry's hair was a little wild where it had grown out of it's usually boyish short style.For some reason Louis' fingers flexed, as if wanting to course through the flicks in the bottom of his rich brown hair.It had been curly once. Louis had seen pictures of him innocent with wide green eyes and a wider, bright white, toothy grin. Everything about him screamed privilege.Louis wondered if he knew he'd only taken this job to stop him losing his flat.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Chapter 1 _

 

"Ouch, what the fuck?!"

 

"It's going to hurt, Mr. Styles...it’s a serious muscle injury..."

 

Harry glared at the woman who was the latest in a long line of physiotherapists employed to rehabilitate him. The one who currently had her thumbs pressed sharply into his bare hips, testing for tenderness. He'd had to tug down his boxers band a little and he felt exposed on the table; body bare to the therapist’s prying eyes. 

 

"It doesn't have to hurt that fucking much I'm sure..."

 

Jenna looked at him with a condescending smile. 

 

"It's going to get worse. That is if you _want_ to get better?"

 

The suggestion that he _wouldn't_ want to get better was irritating. The accusation that he wasn’t strong enough to take the pain was infuriating.

 

"Get out," he rolled off the custom-made massage bench and wrapped his dressing gown around himself with a tight pull on the belt around his middle. 

 

He wasn't entirely convinced that the woman was here for more than his body, anyway. A chance to sleep with him like so many others before her. Shame those women didn't get the hint that he wasn't actually into girls.

 

"Sir, with all due respect -"

 

"You don't get to tell me what I can and can't take," he cast acidly. "You don't get to look down on me. You have no idea how it feels!" He roared.

 

Jenna sighed, pursing her lips.

 

"Very well," she acquiesced. "But remember I'm your last hope," she muttered as she turned to pack up her bag, hips swaying as she walked out of the room.

 

Harry didn't care much that she may well be his last option for a physiotherapist.  It was evidently too hard and too painful for him to ever get to grips with. It was evident that he couldn't find anyone to fit his particular needs.

 

"Liam!" He yelled for his assistant, a people pleaser who looked close to a nervous breakdown most days.

 

It crossed Harry's mind that he might be the reason for it.

 

//

_"#Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall…#"_

 

Louis Tomlinson sniggered at the slightly slurred, probably mispronounced ditty he was singing; chucking the wrapper of a liqueur chocolate at one of the empty mini-spirits bottles lined up on his coffee table.

 

He missed of course, leaning forward to flick the bottle over, taking advantage of his position to grab another alcohol-filled chocolate and slurping as the liquid content spilled down his chin.

 

"Shit. Wasting good stuff there," he licked his chin in a wide swipe.

 

There were foot steps at the back door, but he wasn't worried. Not many people came to visit him these days. Not since he'd been publicly humiliated and unemployed anyway.

 

"What do you want, Nialler?"

 

The appearance of his only remaining friend could mean one thing and one thing only. 

 

If only he wasn't gob-full of melted chocolate and rum when the Irish man walked in.

 

"What the fuck, Tommo?"

 

"What?" Louis shrugged innocently.

 

"Thought you'd stopped drinking?" Niall asked more than accused. The brunette knew better than to start _that_ fight.

 

"I did," Louis smirked. "For a week."

 

"Well you're going to have to stop again," he arched a brow and folded his arms.

 

"And why is that, leprechaun?" Louis asked backed condescendingly. 

 

Niall walked around the other side of the table and slid the packet of liqueurs away when Louis went to sneak another one.

 

His blue eyes flashed up to meet his friend’s in silent warning.

 

"Don't mess with me, Irish. "

 

"I got you a job," Niall told him then plainly. "Pays really fucking well for doing the standard..."

 

Louis considered him as he ran his tongue over his teeth. It felt a bit thick and numb from the alcohol strumming through his veins. His teeth felt sharp and weird.

 

"Brilliant," he slapped his palms on his thighs. "Sign me up."

 

"There's a reason it pays a lot," Niall added, narrowing his eyes as if to assess Louis' ability to consent to the job.

 

"Always is," Louis smiled bitterly.  Like his last job. Where he got sold down the river.

 

"Don't you want to hear why?" His friend checked.

 

Louis figured he could probably drink enough to not care all that much why.  But the fact he'd have to be sober to work meant he at least had to consider it.

 

"As long as he doesn't want me as his personal prostitute like the last guy then I'm pretty sure I'm good..."

 

Louis' acerbic comment didn't tell his side of the story. Didn't explain how he'd fallen for his patient and had stupidly believed his lies. It didn't cover the way the press had reported him as a predator stalking prey, using his position of trust to coerce his patient into a sordid sexual tryst. It didn't begin to reveal how hurt and betrayed Louis had felt afterwards; his high-profile patient portrayed as a victim while Louis' career lay in ruins.

 

"It's Harry Styles," Niall said as though that should be explanation enough.

 

And it _was_ , really because everyone knew about Styles' fall from being the nation's sweetheart to being a chronically injured, bitter recluse.

 

Once a world class figure skater scoring 9.8 averages the world over; a hip injury beset the somewhat beautiful man and crushed his hopes in the World Championships, his last accolade to win before a planned break from the circuit.

 

Louis knew of him; of course he did, it was his job to know. A renowned sports therapist; he couldn't lie and say he hadn't wondered if he would be the one to receive the call to  rehabilitate Styles after his fall. 

 

But the call never came. And Louis had taken another job; one he now deeply regretted. 

 

But it didn't change the fact he desperately needed the money the new job would bring. He was so close to losing his apartment due to unpaid rent that he didn't want to think about the alternatives. 

 

"Fine," he shrugged; still marginally sloppy in diction.

 

"Lou, you can't walk out on this one," Niall warned. "You're literally the guy's last hope..."

 

Louis snickered wetly, pressing his forearm against his mouth. His hiccupping laughter turned quickly into something else.

 

"Fuck," Niall murmured softly at seeing his tears, rushing to sit beside him and pull him into a hug. "It's alright Tommo," he assured. "Got this job now yeah? Don't fuck it up."

 

Louis nodded against his shoulder, holding on tightly.

 

"You're sure about this?" Niall checked as he pulled away.

 

Louis nodded resolutely.

 

"Sure."

 

//

 

Louis was sober.

 

Mostly.

 

He walked around the somewhat quaint traditional parlour of the mansion he'd pulled up at in Niall’s car.

 

He didn't even have enough money to gas his own, he’d checked his account that morning.

 

The room was not truly what he had expected. He had expected simple, clean lines. He'd expected mod-cons and glass walls expanding the lower floor onto the no-doubt expansive rear yard. 

 

It included a pool Louis knew. He'd smelt the chlorine walking up the drive. He wondered if Harry's injury allowed him to use it.

 

He checked his watch. The man was running about twenty minutes late and counting. Louis was beginning to think he’d gotten lost in the labyrinth of halls and rooms when the door handle clicked, opening slowly.

 

In limped a graceful giant; slim bodied but broad shouldered with thick thighs. Harry's hair was a little wild where it had grown out of it's usually boyish short style.

 

For some reason Louis' fingers flexed, as if wanting to course through the flicks in the bottom of his rich brown hair.

 

It had been curly once. Louis had seen pictures of him innocent with wide green eyes and a wider, bright white, toothy grin. Everything about him screamed privilege.

 

Louis wondered if he knew he'd only taken this job to stop him losing his flat.

 

"Hi," he greeted as the taller man stopped in the doorway, one hand on the handle as his disgruntled face looked Louis over in assessment. 

 

Harry drew himself up rigidly and shuffled in, an attempt to hide his prominent limp Louis could tell.

 

The fact he nearly winced on every step was a give-away but he refrained from pointing it out.

 

"You must be Tomlinson," Harry said, moving toward the whisky decanter on the side. 

 

Louis hadn't liked to help himself to the alcohol because it was no doubt expensive and it was the middle of the day besides.

 

"Drink?" Harry offered lifting a crystal glass.

 

Louis eyed the dark amber liquid; running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip.

 

"Alright," he nodded.

 

If he was playing it cool, it worked. Harry's gaze stayed on him for a long moment and then averted to concentrate on pouring their drinks.

 

"And it's Louis," he added. "Haven't been called by my surname since I was at school..."

 

"Everyone I employ addresses me as Mr. Styles," Harry replied, holding out a glass but not moving to deliver it.

 

Louis' gaze dropped to his hip, covered with smart slacks and a matching jacket in navy; paired with a pale blue shirt.

 

"I see," Louis pursed his lips, sipping at his drink to curb his smirk.

 

So, Harry was one of _those_ was he? A control freak. Someone who liked to keep his distance from the very people he spent all day with. It said a lot about why he hadn’t been able to maintain his rehabilitation. It spoke volumes as to why he butted heads with his therapists; if what he had read was anything to go by.

 

Each and every one of the twelve professionals who had visited the Styles' mansion had been sent packing; the man before him described as arrogant, spoiled and too rich for his own good.

 

Louis could see all that, he really could. It dripped from the man in the gentle pleats of his trousers at the hips; the way his jacket hung open. It leapt from his chest which was bared by the unbuttoning of what would be considered too many buttons for polite society; the smooth skin marred only by a single silver cross dangling delicately from a matching chain.

 

He was dressed like a thirty-year-old but Louis knew him to be all of twenty-one; only a baby in the world. At twenty-eight Louis had seen much more of life, had felt much more of its barbed wires and cutting pain. And yet standing here sipping whiskey with a man who didn’t even flinch as the strong alcohol burned on its way down his throat, he saw a hell of a lot more, too.

 

"So, _Mr. Styles_ ," he drawled the name, deliberately seductive. "Are you going to let me examine you or are you tossing me off your property before I've even drawn down your shorts?"

 

Harry's eyes flicked to him and pinned him with a dark, furrowed stare.

 

"If all you’re after is the goods, Tomlinson, then you may as well depart now. I've had plenty of _that kind_ through here already and I don't wish history to repeat itself."

 

Harry laid his glass down rather heavily, the thick glass clanking against the ornate silver tray which kept the whiskey set. Louis watched the way his hands worked- long fingers and surprisingly gentle gestures.

 

"You might be familiar with my background," Louis said as Harry turned to limp out of the room.

 

Harry paused, looking over his shoulder only.

 

"You might be aware I am a recluse," he returned with a press of his lips that turned the edge up in challenge, almost.

 

_Do your worst, Tomlinson. You're no beast compared to me._

"I can assure you that my intentions are the furthest thing from tawdry," Louis mused. "In fact, I came here to check that you weren’t looking for some quick fuck with a little free massage..."

 

Harry blinked, face angling away in the same direction as his body; facing the door. Louis didn’t miss the curl in his lashes or the softness of his lips.

 

Harry turned fully towards him once more, again drawing himself up as though it was an effort to do so; as though he was irrevocably tired of putting on his battle-clothes to protect himself from the world.

 

"Then you may stay and examine me, I suppose," Harry offered quietly. His voice wasn’t as deep this time, not as authoritative.

 

Of course, Louis could possibly be too drunk to tell.

 

"Right," he slapped his palms together, rubbing them slightly. "Show me to your therapy room."

 

Harry led the way.


	2. Chapter 2

_ Chapter 2 _

 

Harry needed another knock-back of whiskey to strip to his underwear, it seemed.

 

Louis watched him carefully as he walked out from behind the shrouding divider in the specialist therapy room; a thick gown now covering his long body. But he was uncomfortable, Louis could tell.

 

His curiosity was piqued.

 

Something had happened, before. Something he couldn’t tell if it related to his injury or something else...his body, maybe?

 

From what Louis could see, his body was nearly perfect. From what he had seen in photos of Harry in his skin-tight crystal-imbedded costumes, he had no part of him to feel self-conscious about. Louis put it down to his previous therapists, then. Evidently someone had rubbed him up the wrong way.

 

"Come and sit on the side of the bench," Louis patted the sterilised leather-cased cushion; laying a towel down to soften the coldness of the material.

 

Harry glanced at him as he wandered closer, still hiding his pain with a controlled limp.

 

Louis unzipped his rucksack, stretching his toes gently in his converse. He'd worn a suit for this first meeting; _well_ a jacket over his t-shirt and jeans. Usually he worked in sweatpants for ease of movement and because it was more comfortable for him and his patient if they were casual.

 

He'd shucked off his jacket on entering the room and had turned up the individual thermostat slightly against the chill. No wonder Harry was tense if it always this cold.

 

"Are you even qualified?" Harry commented on watching him root around in the bottom of his rucksack for a pen.

 

Louis found it and clicked it sharply, turning to look at the man sitting on the edge of the bench; swinging his feet slightly.

 

"I have an honours degree in physiotherapy along with biological science, if you must know. I’ve also studied complimentary therapies and I’m registered with the Health and Care Professions Council," Louis reeled off quietly, blinking coolly. "Is that sufficient to meet your requirements, Mr. Styles?" He added sweetly.

 

Harry just huffed, shaking his head against the glimmer of a dry smile.

 

"Right, may I ask a few questions, then?" Louis posed.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

"Sure. I've answered them all before so..."

 

"Where does it hurt?" Louis asked.

 

Harry swung his eyes over to stare at him.

 

"In my hip. Obviously," he added under his breath.

 

"Show me?"

 

Harry leaned back a bit and pointed at a spot on the front of his hip.

 

"Burning, aching, stabbing?" Louis checked.

 

Harry's eyes met his more slowly.

 

"It kind of pulls," his brows furrowed. "It hurts to walk...I can feel it here, too," he pointed to the top of his thigh.

 

Louis nodded.

 

"That's normal."

 

"I can't-" Harry began and then swallowed, shaking his head again with a grimace.

 

"You can't?" Louis probed.

 

"Stand up properly," he described. "I can’t crouch or sit and then-"

 

"Do you push yourself to?" Louis questioned next. "Even when you feel it pull?"

 

Harry looked away.

 

"Yes."

 

"Do you ice it?"

 

"Done all that," he arched a brow. "Rest, ice, compression and elevation."

 

"How long do you elevate it for?"

 

Harry sighed.

 

"Well, I did it for two weeks and-"

 

"You stopped," Louis guessed.

 

"It's annoying," Harry glared at him. "Laying there staring at the ceiling."

 

"Have you tried reading a book?" Louis mused.

 

Harry's gaze shuttered, Louis felt the mood change.

 

"Have _you_ tried reading a book?" Harry asked back. "Whilst being laid on your back for four hours a day?"

 

Louis bit his lip.

 

"Okay, what else have you tried?"

 

"This," Harry gestured to him. "Therapy."

 

"And what seems to be the problem there?"

 

"It hurts," Harry ground out from a gritty throat, eyes dark and intense now; an anger burning behind those otherwise beautiful green orbs.

 

Louis nodded, knowing the truth in that statement. Hip injuries were often the worst because of the weight of the body pressing upon it. And depending on the extent of the damage; the flexibility of the joint would be severely reduced meaning Harry wouldn’t be able to do an awful lot without it hurting.

 

"You really went through twelve therapists because it hurts?" Louis wondered.

 

Harry dropped his gaze to his lap with a sigh.

 

"I didn’t like them."

 

"You probably won’t like me much, either," Louis guessed.

 

"Probably not," Harry huffed with a light chuckle.

 

"But you’re willing to let me try?" Louis checked.

 

Harry hesitantly looked at him again. Another swallow.

 

"Can you examine me first?"

 

Louis nodded. _He certainly could._

 

//

 

"In here?"

 

His thumb drew delicately over the pale expanse of skin that stretched over Harry's hip-bone. The way his Iliopsoas muscle flexed underneath that skin was highly distracting but Louis was willing to let it go. It didn’t help that there were two gigantic ferns tattooed over the very same space, from the centre of his belly flaring out.

 

The word _pretty_ sprung to mind and Louis had a hard time scrubbing it away.

 

"Please," Harry's hand tightened around his wrist; voice shaky. "Be gentle."

 

Louis looked up into his face. He noted the harsh flush in his cheeks, the tears at the edges of his eyes. It was taking a lot for the young man to trust him, here. It was difficult to decipher the reason for his fear but Louis felt it in palpable waves; felt it in the gentle bite of his fingertips against the inside of his wrist. ~~~~

"They hurt you before," he said.

 

It wasn’t a question and Harry didn’t answer. Louis frowned as he made out the faint dark bruise on the sensitive skin, fingertip gliding gently over the spot.

 

"Is that where they touched you before?"

 

Harry huffed.

 

Louis avoided the tender spot, thumbing around the joint and digging his fingers in from behind; into his glutes.

 

"You ever feel it here?" He asked.

 

Harry's boxer-briefs were a distracting shade of bright pink; rolled down to allow him the access he required to examine the injury but Louis was careful not to bare any other part of him; pulling his gown over the side he didn’t need to see and tucking the lapel of it over his chest when he’d laid down and flung it open.

 

He didn’t know why he sensed Harry had a problem with being naked but it was there in the back of his mind.

 

"Yeah," Harry's voice was strangled now, pain evident in Louis' gently probing digits.

 

"And here," Louis ghosted pressure against where he knew it hurt.

 

Harry’s short nod was enough confirmation.

 

"And..." Louis pressed his thumb into the top of his thigh; the pressure only slight but Harry couldn’t have been expecting it because his leg flicked out; toes catching Louis between the legs.

 

"Fuck!" Louis hissed as he twisted away, cupping himself as an immediate burning pain washed over him; his eyes feeling goggly for a moment. "Shit..."

 

"I didn’t mean to do that!" Harry's voice beseeched behind him.

 

Louis turned to give him a watery-eyed glare.

 

"Is this why everyone else left?"

 

"You should have-I didn't know!" Harry argued.

 

Louis had to concede. He should have mentioned it.

 

"Jesus," he muttered. "Fucking feisty little thing aren’t you..."

 

Harry looked offended, dark brows knitting together.

 

"If you were in this much pain you’d be feisty, too."

 

Louis pursed his lips, refraining from telling his own story. One that explained why he became a therapist in the first place.

 

"Yeah, alright, Styles," he soothed begrudgingly, cupping himself with a wince. "No harm, no foul."

 

Harry glowered, almost as if he was spoiling for a fight that would ensure Louis would never return. Louis watched as he haughtily wrapped the gown around himself as he sat up, belting it and then moving to slide off the edge of the table.

 

"Ah!" Louis lurched forward, hands automatically tightening into his waist to support him in premonition of how much that particular move would hurt.

 

Harry winced only slightly but he shoved Louis away by the chest.

 

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

 

Louis looked at his hands, then back at Harry.

 

"Trying to stop you doing more damage," he mused.

 

"Trying to get a feel," Harry accused, cheeks flushing again that same mottled red that denoted embarrassment or mortification, Louis wasn’t sure.

 

"Oh sure," Louis rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Princess..."

 

"Leave," Harry told him, pointing to the door.

 

Louis smirked, turning to slide his notebook into his rucksack. He wasn’t going to argue. Because in a few days he’d be back here, starting a plan to get Harry back on his feet.

 

"See ya next week, Curly," Louis sing-songed before he walked out of the room.

 

//

 

"That man is not welcome here..."

 

"But he's the only guy who's willing to help, Mr. Styles..."

 

"I don’t care. I sent him away. I expect him to _stay_ away."

 

Louis smirked, whistling patiently as he listened to the conversation between Liam; a guy that Harry employed to serve him, apparently; and Harry himself, Queen of the Castle.

 

"You do know I can hear you?" Louis called out loudly; smiling as the so called "whispering" in the hallway came to an abrupt stop. "You can tell me to my face," he added.

 

A few seconds later, Harry stalked into the room.

 

Well he might have stalked had he not been unable to hold his weight on his bad hip. It lost the dramatic effect somehow and Louis ended up smiling at him beautifully. The fine whiskey he had helped himself to might be assisting his nonchalance somewhat.

 

"Hi." he said.

 

Harry glared.

 

"You should leave."

 

"No, I shouldn’t," Louis replied.

 

Harry looked befuddled for a moment, then;

 

"This is my property and you’re trespassing."

 

"Not sure you can call it trespassing when I'm here to help," Louis argued.

 

"I don’t want your help."

 

"No, you want to stay here in your self-built hell and wallow in your own pain and misery," Louis surmised. "Hate to tell you this, but I'm being paid to make that _not_ happen."

 

"Then I'll stop paying you," Harry decided. "Will you please now leave?"

 

Louis thought about it with a swallow. He hadn’t _actually_ been paid yet. If Harry refused even his first pay check then he’d have less than a month before he'd get evicted.

 

"No," he shrugged.

 

Harry wasn’t used to being told no. It was clear in the way his eyes bugged and his pupils pin-pointed in anger.

 

"Why the fuck not?"

 

"Because it's not just about the money," Louis reasoned. "You are one stubborn son of a bitch I admit, but I can heal you," he relayed confidently. "Call it a duty of care."

 

"I call it fucking trespassing," Harry bit out, hands fisted at his sides. "Payne! Call the police!"

 

Louis laughed. It was loud and incredulous and it caused Liam to pop his head into the room.

 

"Sir?"

 

"He’s refusing to leave," Harry gestured to the small man with the sweeping fringe.

 

Louis looked at Liam. Liam actually smiled, almost proudly.

 

"Oh...oh dear," he feigned sympathy at Harry's claim.

 

Harry turned.

 

"Well? Why aren’t you calling the authorities?"

 

"I'm sure they have better things to do with their time, Sir," Liam mused. "Besides he doesn’t look to be hurting anyone..."

 

Harry blinked in shock at his assistant's betrayal, mouth falling open in a gape.

 

"Must I remove him myself?" He roared, stepping forward to do just that, apparently.

 

"Ah!" Louis stopped him again with a sharp noise, pressing his hands against Harry's chest.

 

It was warm and solid; thick with muscle but smooth over that; a nice broad expanse that he’d seen partly bare the week before. Louis didn’t like to conjure the memories of that skin; pale and smooth. His nipples peaked against his lemon-yellow shirt now; his shoulders stretching the cotton. Louis found himself wondering if he ever wore t-shirts and shorts; or flip-flops just sometimes around the house.

 

"Get. Off. Me."

 

Harry was breathing hard, his breath falling into Louis' hair as Louis braced him.

 

"Fine, but don’t charge forwards," Louis muttered. "You'll only hurt yourself."

 

Harry's tension lifted somewhat, he leaned back from Louis' blocking touch.

 

"If you would leave I wouldn’t have to remove you," he breathed.

 

"And if you would stop being a Princess, I could show you why I'm here," Louis parroted back.

 

Harry looked away, curled lashes sweeping over his expressive eyes and Louis thought for a second he was about to go into one. But then he caught the slight tug of Harry's lips upwards; something he was hiding by ducking his face away because he didn’t want Louis to see. He didn’t want Louis to see he was amused.

 

He liked being mocked, Louis realised. Maybe nobody had mocked him before. Maybe they just went antler-to-antler with him instead of stroking his belly to distract him from a fight.

 

"Fine," Harry cleared his throat, straightening his shoulders and looking Louis coolly in the eye. His fringe flopped down a little across his forehead, a thick silky mess that Louis still felt inclined to tidy. "Well?" He added when Louis just stared at him.

 

"Oh. Right, yeah," Louis turned towards the sofa, lifting up a pair of crutches. He’d tied a pretty red ribbon around them and presented them with a grin. "Ta-da!"

 

Harry's eyes went over them while his lips curled derisively.

 

"What’s that?"

 

"Crutches," Louis offered bemusedly. "You’ve heard of them, right?"

 

Harry laughed but it wasn’t amused.

 

"I'm not using those."

 

"No, I can tell," Louis reprimanded lightly. "And I can see none of your previous therapists have recommended it..."

 

Harry gave him a dirty smirk.

 

"One did. I told her where to go, too."

 

Louis hugged the crutches to his chest, folding his arms. He watched the man before him for a long moment in silence, not intimidated by his glare.

 

"I'm curious..."

 

"Then let me abate your curiosity, Tomlinson," Harry ricocheted.

 

Louis tilted his head, blue eyes raking over him.

 

"How do you expect to recover?" He asked candidly.

 

Harry frowned.

 

"I mean...some of my patients are reluctant to try my suggestions and question my methods but most of them, at the very least, want to get themselves better. And to do that they understand it's going to take time and patience and hard work...which they may not like and they may throw the odd fit about but…"

 

Louis drew in a breath. Harry’s shoulders had curled again and he was favouring his good side. When he went to change footing, he winced; a noise scraping from the back of his throat to denote his pain.

 

Louis unfolded his arms and slid one of the crutches out, hesitantly pointing it across the space between himself and Harry.

 

Harry looked at it and then narrowed his eyes at Louis accusingly before snatching the thing with a huff.

 

Louis waited for him to slide his hand into the circle; gripping the hand rest and then placing the leg to the floor. This time when he shuffled his footing, he put his weight onto the crutch. His face cleared; all furrows and winces gone.

 

"Hm," he tested it with a tentative step forward, then another, Louis twisting to move out of his way.

 

Harry turned.

 

"Do I really need them both?"

 

Louis nodded.

 

"Otherwise you’ll over-compensate on  the other side."

 

Harry looked sadly to the floor.

 

He didn’t say it aloud, but the agreement was there. _Alright_.

 

Louis walked closer and gave him the other crutch, draping the ribbon around his neck to tie it in a bow at his neck. Harry’s lips nearly quirked at the gesture.

 

"Right, that’s me done!" Louis clapped his hands together, startling Harry somewhat.

 

"You’re going?" Harry asked.

 

Louis beamed.

 

"As instructed," he reminded cheekily.

 

Harry followed him, walking with the crutches without prompting. Louis felt a secret victorious smile slip onto his lips that Harry couldn’t see.

 

"When will you be back?"

 

"Not telling," he said. "You might lock the gates and set up canons if you know when I plan to arrive..."

 

"How did you know?!" Harry called as Louis marched across the grand marble floor of the entrance.

 

"Call it intuition," Louis called back before he slipped out.

 

//

 

"Less pain?"  Louis asked as he led the way into the therapy room, Harry following with the support of his crutches.

 

He had looked younger somehow when he'd opened the front door. 

 

Louis couldn't deny his surprise at that either; expecting Liam to answer his knock. Seeing Harry there, he'd half expected to be kicked in the balls again. 

 

He had scruff on his face which looked to be a few days old but he'd lost his jacket in favour of a rolled sleeved pink shirt with his surname embroidered on the pocket teamed with some roomy wide legged smart trousers which the shirt tucked into.

 

He hadn't smiled or said "Hi" back when Louis had greeted him, but he'd let him in without threatening to summon the authorities.

 

"Less pain," Harry confirmed as he manoeuvred himself to sit obediently on the edge of the bench.

 

"Good," Louis wrestled off his backpack and unzipped it, ignoring the letter with big red writing telling him how many days he had left to pay his rent.

 

He still wasn't sure Harry _would_ be paying him let alone _when_.

 

He pulled out a manila folder and lifted it up.

 

"Your x-rays came back..."

 

Harry nodded.

 

"How was it?" Louis checked with narrowed eyes.

 

Harry bobbed his head a bit.

 

"Fine. Reminded me of when I went to hospital as a kid and they gave me a lollipop."

 

"Really?" Louis mused. "Geraldine gave you a lollipop?"

 

He knew the staff at the hospital pretty well and he'd picked Geraldine because he knew she'd be gentle with him above all else. However, she usually ran a tight ship. 

 

"No, Geraldine wasn't won over by my dimples," he sighed. "The guy on the desk, Matt was though..."

 

 _Matt_?

 

Louis turned from where he had been holding up the films to the light from the balcony-style door windows.

 

"How generous," Louis commented.

 

Next time he went down there he'd remember to find this Matt person and-

 

"Gave me his number, too," Harry grinned a bit to himself.

 

Louis caught a glimpse of the afore-mentioned dimples.

 

"Good to see professionalism isn't dead," he remarked. 

 

Harry looked at him.

 

"Isn't that a bit ironic coming from you?"

 

Louis' back straightened. His shoulders went back; tightness seeping through every muscle in his body. _Harry had looked him up then._

 

"Your x-rays look good," he avoided the loaded question with a light voice. "I need to ask you a question..."

 

"Top or bottom?" Harry guessed. "Bottom, although I act like a top...:

 

Louis turned to stare at him with glacial eyes. He tucked the x-rays back into the file and crossed to his bag to stuff them in.

 

He threw on his coat and snatched up his bag, marching for the door.

 

"Hey! Tomlinson!" He heard Harry calling him but he was going to be sick and he didn't want it to be anywhere near this beautiful house or it's beast of an owner. 

 

He made it to the end of the drive before Harry had got to the front door.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Chapter 3 _

 

"Lou...for fuck’s sake..."

 

Louis blinked blearily at the blurred outline moving in front of him.

 

"Who’re you?" He managed on a thick tongue.

 

"Who do ya think? The only fecking idiot stupid enough to still care about you.... bastard," Niall added accusingly.

 

"He knows," he slurred, hand falling in his lap and clutching into his sweatpants.  Something felt wet and he made a face, sniffing his fingers.  "Did I spill my drink?" He wondered.

 

"Nope," Niall muttered as he cleared away the mess surrounding him. "You pissed yourself.  Again."

 

Louis giggled, choking on his laughter.

 

"Every fucking body knows!" He sang loudly, flailing his arms. It felt really good when he did that.

 

"Lou, I'm sorry that cunt sold a bunch of lies to the press I really am," Niall offered. "But you can't keep doing this. Andy rang me today. He told me how much you owe in back rent. I can't pay it for you Tommo. I've got a baby on the way, you know that..."

 

"I'll live under a bridge," Louis decided with a twirl of his hand.

 

"I talked to Harry."

 

Louis felt sick; rum swishing about in his belly strangely. He snorted.

 

"He's a fucking cunt too, but he said he was only messing you about," he explained. "You've got to go back to work."

 

Louis shook his head, bitterness rising up his throat.

 

"He knows, Ni."

 

"He only knows what Google told him. You can fill the gaps."

 

Louis curled over to hug a cushion.

 

"Gonna live under a bridge with my cushion."

 

Niall patted his shoulder.

 

"You might just get your wish, buddy."

 

//

 

Liam answered the door.

 

Louis didn't quite meet his eyes.

 

"Where is he?"

 

"In his bedroom," Liam answered as Louis came inside.

 

Louis stopped, stomach falling.

 

"Is this some kind of sick joke?"

 

Liam looked confused.

 

"No? He said something about elevation," he explained. "He’s got his legs up."

 

Louis' heart tripped back into rhythm.

 

"Oh."

 

"I know," Liam rolled his eyes. " _Now_ he does what the experts tell him, I mean..."

 

Louis followed him up the grand staircase thinking the carpet alone would pay off his rent debt. 

 

Harry was indeed laying on his bed which was a ridiculously over the top four post thing placed nearest the windowed side of the room. All the furnishings were the same kind of old that the parlour was and there was an exquisite pink embroidered throw tucked underneath the wild haired boy.

 

He still hadn't shaved but his bristle looked about the same as Louis approached. He was reading a Lifestyle magazine, feet propped up on four pillows and an ice pack pressed to his hip.

 

"Apparently I need compression shorts" Harry told him without closing his magazine.

 

 _So they were doing this._ Louis cleared his throat.

 

"That would help, yes."

 

Harry did flick the magazine cover a bit then to look at him.

 

"Don't they like...squash the goods?"

 

If Louis wasn't mesmerized by the clear olive of his eyes then he might have laughed. He managed a weak smirk.

 

"You can wear a cup if you're worried..."

 

Harry's lips twitched as though he was about to make a joke regarding the cupping of his "goods" but he seemed to think better of it.

 

"I've been doing this for the last four days you know."

 

"I didn't tell you to," Louis slung down his bag and slipped off his denim jacket.

 

He pulled self-consciously at the neck of his t-shirt, feeling it slip past his collar bones despite his attempts to tug it over them.

 

"Well someone did once," Harry relayed. "And since you left I thought I was on my own again."

 

 _Again_.

 

Louis looked to him and Harry went back to his magazine. 

 

"What are your thoughts on curtain ties?"

 

Louis laughed quietly. He couldn't afford groceries let alone ties for his curtains.

 

"I'm more concerned about your hip," he retorted honestly.

 

Harry looked at him.

 

"If I must lay here for two hours a day the least you could do is try and make polite conversation..."

 

"Did it hurt?" Louis asked, throat thick with an unknown emotion.

 

"When I fell from heaven?" Harry wondered with a confused furrow of his brows.

 

"Before," Louis' lips tugged into a helpless smile at his humour, however inappropriate. "Before you fell."

 

Harry looked away quickly, slapping the magazine to the bed with a sigh.

 

"So that's the new method, is It? Wait till I'm all hung up then ask the difficult questions?"

 

Louis rounded the bed.

 

"Did it?" He asked again.

 

Harry looked at his feet and then over; meeting Louis’ gaze.

 

"You already know the answer to that."

 

"What did it feel like?"

 

"Why do you need to know?" Harry jabbed back. "It’s too late to do anything."

 

Louis bit his lip. 

 

"Because when you're able to start training again I need to know where it went wrong the first time."

 

Harry stared.

 

"You think I can-"

 

"I know you can," Louis confirmed softly. 

 

Harry blinked at him.

 

"It just felt a bit tight at first," he shared, eyes flicking away into the room. "Sometimes I didn't have much time to stretch before I went to practice...sometimes the coach pushed me to do a bit more even though I said it didn't feel quite right."

 

"Who was your coach?" Louis wondered. 

 

"MacKintock," he cited the well-known strict Scottish bred coach. Louis had heard his name before. 

 

"You need to find a new coach," he said only.

 

"I will," Harry murmured.  "If I decide to-you know..."

 

Louis hadn't even considered the possibility of Harry not trying again. He assumed it was the sole reason for him being there.

 

"So, the focus is to get you walking and moving without pain?" He checked of his objective.

 

Harry nodded, eyes still not meeting his.

 

"Alright, we can do that."

 

Louis turned away to look out of the window.

 

"Louis?"

 

He turned his face to the side, not showing his surprise at hearing Harry call him by his first name.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Thank you for coming back."

 

//

 

 

"I need to do a little bit of massage," Louis ventured at the next visit.

 

He'd had a panic attack on leaving home that morning when he couldn't find his rucksack but he'd remembered belatedly that he’d left it at Harry's when the younger man had begged to borrow his therapy textbook to read.

 

Louis had told him to bring his laptop upstairs to his bedroom the next time he was elevating his legs but Harry had dismissed the idea in favour of reading.

 

Harry was sat on the edge of the treatment bench in his gown, swinging his legs, his lower lip sucked into his mouth.

 

"Why didn't you say?"

 

Louis frowned, bemused. 

 

"Say what? That I need to massage your hip? Figured that was a given, Princess..."

 

Harry looked at him with intense eyes.

 

"That you didn't have enough money."

 

Louis felt the bottom fall out of him for the second time in as many weeks.  _Fuck_. The letter. He'd left it in his bag.

 

"You shouldn't go through people's private things," Louis gripped the counter he was pressed against, getting everything ready for his massage therapy. 

 

"I tried to call them to pay it."

 

"Fuck's sake," Louis bit out the curse and twirled. "Why the fuck couldn't you just leave it alone?"

 

 _Oh_ , _that's_ _right_. Because he enjoyed pulling at Louis' frayed edges until they unravelled. Just like his sick joke about Victor.

 

"They wouldn't take any money," Harry carried on regardless.

 

"Can we just focus on the therapy?“ Louis asked. "Please?"

 

Harry frowned, hands curled around the edge of the bench.

 

"But where will you-"

 

"Lie on your good side," Louis cut him off with a breath through his nose. "You can leave the gown on, I'll work around it."

 

Harry tried to peek at him but Louis resolutely refused to meet his gaze. He took enough deep breaths to count to ten to ensure he wouldn't inadvertently hurt Harry by mistake in anger.

 

"Right, I'm tucking these down," he narrated as he carefully rolled down the band of Harry’s shorts.

 

He heard Harry breathe out, long body relaxing. His lovely slim legs were bent in a curl almost child-like, his hand resting on the edge of the bench like he was ready to strike Louis away if needed.

 

"I'm going to try my best to be gentle," he promised. "But it still might hurt."

 

Harry nodded with a swallow; a clicking sounding in his throat.

 

Louis grabbed his discarded coat and brought it over. 

 

"Here, squeeze this if you need to..."

 

Harry unravelled the denim to reveal the sheepskin softness of the lining, laying it over his front and shoulders. Louis squeezed his arm lightly before trailing his gown over his hip.

 

"Nice leaves by the way," he started with gentle pressure that made Harry tense, a sound in his throat that was more fear than pain. 

 

He watched as Harry clutched the coat more tightly to himself.

 

"They're laurels."

 

"Not ferns?" Louis queried.

 

"No," Harry murmured. 

 

Louis began humming a tune, something which had been stuck at the back of his mind and was a reminder of how soft he needed to be.

 

"You don't have to stand behind me you know...I won't kick you again."

 

"Promises, promises," Louis teased dryly. "My balls don't trust you yet."

 

"You can hurt me if you want," Harry said then. "To get me back."

 

Louis balked at a world where Harry had been taught that it was okay to hurt others who hurt you.

 

"That's not how I operate..."

 

"You could though," he added softly as though he was trying not to relax into the gentle persuasion of Louis' touch. 

 

He hadn't reached the soreness yet but he would. 

 

"I could," Louis agreed. "But I won’t."

 

Harry closed his eyes, tears on his lashes. Louis pressed into the sore part only lightly, earning an uncomfortable whimper from the boy laying before him.

 

"I won't go harder than that today," he soothed, fingers gliding across Harry's belly to alleviate the pressure on the joint.

 

"So, the x-rays were clear?" Harry asked then.

 

Louis tried not to remember that meeting. 

 

"Yeah...the tendon hasn't detached or torn raggedly in a way that would require surgery. It’s a case of strain. It’s swollen. And you've gotten into bad habits that keep pulling it," Louis mused, thumbs dipping back into the tender spot.

 

"Fuck," Harry's hand came over his gently, clutching it to stop the pain.

 

"Alright," Louis conceded.  "Show me where it doesn't hurt..."

 

Harry pulled his hand toward his belly, pressing it into his abs. Louis didn't miss the slightly sensuous connotation of rubbing his belly but it took him back to that first day when he'd recognised that it might disarm an aggressive Harry.

 

"I can get in trouble for that," he said anyway, going back to massaging around the hip.

 

Harry swallowed down his curiosity apparently, letting out a little sigh.

 

"Okay, you can try again now..."

 

Louis applied light pressure again with one hand, dipping the other lower over his belly where he'd asked to be touched. Louis felt his fingers drag through the silky hairs of his happy trail. He was really so young and beautiful, even his hair wasn't coarse yet; not thick and wiry. 

 

Harry's catch of breath reminded him he had a job to do there and he couldn't risk falling for another client only to end up burned at the stake. His knew Harry had enough evidence to sabotage him for good.

 

"Okay, all done," Louis drew away with a wanting ache in his chest. 

 

He wanted to hear all of Harry's secrets and he wanted to caress him all over until he spilled them breathily from plump parted lips; with his thick thighs wide open for Louis to slot between.

 

He turned from the table with a covered gasp; mortified at his reaction. He had been through this once and he wasn't going to go through it again! He had too much to lose; he was already losing so much.

 

"See you next week," he muttered as he gathered up his bag, this time forgoing his coat as it remained grasped in Harry's hands; laid over himself in comfort.

 

"Bye Louis," he heard as he hurried from the room.

//

 

The notice was on his door when he got back from dinner at Niall's.  Ilene had made a lovely stew and Louis had stayed for second helpings of her apple pie but now the food felt solid in his gut, weighing him down.

 

YOU HAVE 48 HOURS TO REMOVE YOUR BELONGINGS.

 

"Shit," he swallowed.

 

He walked down the hall to the payphone and dialled reverse charge.

 

"Niall? I need your help..."

 

//

 

Louis didn't want to sleep on the Horan’s sofa. He didn't want to ask anybody for anything truth be told.

 

Once he'd arranged for his furniture to be sold and after two nights on Niall’s sofa, Louis clutched his duvet in one arm and pulled two suitcases stacked together behind him, finding the darkness of the night soothing.

 

The lights of the city were so pretty and Louis didn't know where to go. His belongings would probably be stolen by the time he woke up.

 

He sighed.

 

He only had himself to blame. If he hadn't believed Victor when he'd told him that he had feelings for him, he might not be here now. The man had manipulated him; made him believe himself to be in love and had turned around and slapped an injunction against him, citing him as a predatory sexual pervert.

 

And the press had believed him. Despite several of Louis’ former clients contesting his innocence he was all but tried, tested and found guilty and that had meant nobody wanted to do business with him.

 

His heart had been bruised if not broken. In hindsight he didn't think he was truly in love with Victor. He could, in hindsight, admit the warning signs were there and ignored in favour of some of the hottest sex he'd ever had. 

 

But it felt like it meant nothing now. His tummy felt hollow. He no longer had a place he could call home. 

 

"Wanna place to sleep?" A transvestite winked at him as he trailed sadly up the sidewalk towards the train station. 

 

It was the only place he could think of that would be open all night where luggage would be accepted. He wasn't drunk (for once) and he didn't smell so nobody had to know he was homeless.

 

Homeless.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

He used the edge of his duvet to wipe at his face. It wouldn’t do any good to start crying now.

 

He smiled at the street walker and made his way to the station, finding a quiet platform to sit on.

 

He wrapped his duvet around himself and felt the fear creep in.

 

What would he do tomorrow? How would he afford breakfast? Could he sell some of his clothes?

 

 _Shit_.

 

He wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight.  Maybe not for a few nights. But then he'd be back at Harry's and he'd have a sense of purpose again.

 

"Louis..."

 

 _Harry_. 

 

Louis heard his voice in his head; calling his name exactly as he had the last time, not by his surname but his real name.

 

"Louis!"

 

He looked up at the aggravated voice disturbing his melancholy; squinting to recognise the oncoming figure.

 

Harry?

 

He was hastening on his crutches, long hair overlapping his collar and sweeping like waves of an ocean prettily upward as though crashing against a rock wall.  He had on a long thick wool coat and a pair of jeans with boots. He had on a pair of fucking _jeans_.

 

"Stop rushing!" Louis got up to tell him instinctively.

 

Harry rolled his eyes and huffed, but he listened.

 

"Don't fucking run off then," he muttered under his breath.

 

Louis snorted. He wasn't running anywhere. 

 

Harry slowly walked himself up to where Louis now stood, using his crutches as a support.

 

"Where are you going?" Harry asked him plainly.

 

"Why are you out?" Louis asked back. "I thought you were a recluse. "

 

"I am."

 

"Then why--"

 

"Because some fucking irate Irishman rang me and bawled me out for being a bastard for not offering you a room in my ten-room mansion," Harry recounted candidly.  "And I said to him; “Well I tried to pay the rent bill and they wouldn't let me and Louis wouldn't talk about it so what more do you want me to do?”."

 

Louis stared. Harry had never said that many words to him before. 

 

Harry licked his lips, dark pink because of the cold. His lashes glanced off his cheeks as he looked down then he swooped his gaze back up; twisting awkwardly; imbalanced on his crutches.

 

"And he said "You need to go an' fuckin' find him because the bastard’s gone and I don't know where ". " Harry paused. "So here I am."

 

Louis hugged his duvet to his chest.

 

"I don't need your help."

 

Harry snorted.

 

"Sure..."

 

Louis glared at him.

 

"You know what's been said about me. You really expect me to take anything from you and be accused of being a predator?" He beseeched. "If I move in, it'll be printed everywhere that I'm coercing you into having sex with me."

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"But you're not."

 

Louis laughed. _Like it was that simple!_ He shook his head, swallowing down a bitter taste.

 

"I'll be ok."

 

"You can be ok at my house, too."

 

Louis felt tears come to his eyes. The kind he wanted to fight off when they bubbled up in public.

 

"Louis..."

 

Louis sniffled and hid in his duvet, startling when something encircled him; metal gently bouncing off his legs.  Harry was hugging him. _Hugging_ him.

 

The man who had yelled off twelve therapists was hugging him as he cried. And his crutches were tangled around his legs somewhere. 

 

He pulled himself out of the hold, wiping his face with his hands.

 

Harry opened his mouth to say something; probably to remind Louis that he had ten bedrooms. He closed it again, crutching himself back a bit. 

 

Louis reached behind him to grasp his luggage. Harry turned and took a few steps forward; glancing behind him to check that Louis followed.

 

Louis followed. But only because he didn't want Niall to call Harry anymore.

 

//

 

"Here you go," Louis stretched and snapped the material of the compression shorts he'd ordered. ~~~~

He hadn't addressed the fact he was actually living there yet. It had been two nights ago that Harry had settled him into the guest suite with a concerned look and a quiet "goodnight".

 

Louis had eaten two of the biggest breakfasts he’d ever seen since then. Not to mention lunch and dinner. Louis didn't know how Harry stayed so thin. 

 

"No cup?" Harry smirked from his position on the bed with his feet up.

 

Louis rolled his eyes and laid the shorts at the end of the bed. 

 

"If the pain is gone by the end of the week we can try walking the grounds," he suggested.

 

"We?" Harry enquired with a squint.

 

"I want to see if you still need the crutches," Louis offered.

 

"Oh."

 

Louis settled in the large chair at the end of the bed.

 

"What are you reading?"

 

Harry lifted the book.

 

 ** _How to work with difficult people_**.

 

Louis let out a loud clap of laughter and layered his hands over his mouth when Harry shot him an accusing look.

 

"Something funny, Tomlinson?"

 

 _Tomlinson_. So, they were back to that.

 

"Are you finding out what it's like for other people to work with you, or..?"

 

Harry smiled at him, saccharine sweet.

 

"No, I'm trying to understand why people are stubborn to the point of hurting themselves," he supplied matter-of-factly. 

 

"You should know," Louis murmured under his breath.

 

He felt Harry look at him but he didn't bite back.

 

"Is your room ok?" He asked then.

 

Louis stared. Green eyes met his. He held them.

 

"It’s beautiful."

 

"And my staff are keeping you well?"

 

"You mean Liam and Maite?" Louis asked pointedly. Maite was the cook. 

 

Harry nodded once.

 

"They're both great," Louis assured.

 

"Good."

 

"I won't burden you for long." Louis felt the need to say it despite his stay having no restrictions or provisos from Harry.

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"Nice to have people around sometimes."

 

"Do your family stay?" Louis wondered.

 

Harry gave him a horribly plastic smile.

 

"Let's just say that since I, the prodigal son, has fallen on the ice I've also fallen from grace. My father would have preferred me to become a businessman and my mother had planned me to be married by now...clearly I've failed both those expectations."

 

"Married?" Louis wrinkled his nose. "You're a bit young, aren't you?"

 

"I’m not opposed to commitment," Harry commented. "But my mother wanted me to marry a girl which _is_ a problem. Because I don’t like girls.  Not enough to marry one anyway..."

 

Louis did chuckle then, sobering as he realised the weight bearing on Harry's shoulders.

 

"Your dad really rates your worth based on what you win?"

 

Harry looked away, brow furrowing. 

 

"Am I allowed to swim?"

 

Louis made a face that denoted the answer was a no. Harry looked so sad at it though that he couldn't help himself when he piped up:

 

"But we could do some of the stretches I'm going to start you with in the pool?"

 

Harry positively beamed. It was the most unusual feeling Louis had ever felt, the way his stomach curled at seeing it unravel; his famous dimples pooling into his cheeks. 

 

"Okay," Harry breathed happily.

 

Louis learned something new. The key to Harry's happiness laid in getting him wet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys  
> I'm sorry if the length of this chapter is different, I didn't want to keep the story on hold while my laptop is being fixed.
> 
> I lost 40 pages of a new story I'm working on and to say I'm heartbroken is an understatement. I have been lucky to have people supporting me and I'm beginning to start over but my heart hurts :(
> 
> I'll try and post again soon!
> 
> Ang

_chapter 4_

 

"Where are you taking me then?"

Harry used his crutches to dig into the softened earth; swinging his body widely over the grass in a boyish manner that Louis smiled at for a moment before stopping his fun.

"If you slip you'll undo the work we've done so far," he warned.

Harry poked his tongue out at him, jaw gently fuzzed with stubble and his hair still enticingly long. He'd pulled on a funny little hat for the excursion, one which made the curling ends of his hair stick out a little . Along with the collar of the same wool coat he'd worn the night he fetched Louis from the station.

Although he openly opposed Louis' instructions he also obeyed them, slowing his wild leaps a little.

Louis could tell he was eager to get out of the house and wondered if he had been afraid to before; perhaps not wanting to fall.

"Need to get fit again," Harry said.

Louis flicked a look at him.

"You're tiny."

"Am not," Harry frowned. "I've got soft since the accident. I have muffin top now..."

"Muffin t-" Louis sputtered out laughter. "You do not!"

Harry flapped open his coat and yanked up his jumper, twisting to show Louis his side.

His jeans were extremely tight and belted around lovely slim hips but his body shape meant he was slightly top heavy and above the band of his jeans the tiniest curve of lush skin sat, begging to be caressed or even love-bitten if Harry liked that sort of thing.

Louis flicked his eyes back to his face as his cheeks flooded with colour.

"That's...um...that’s-"

"Muffin," Harry unfurled the edge of his jumper over his smooth, soft looking belly and Louis realised he might miss this unconditioned version of Harry once he started training again.

Louis cleared his throat and subtly re-arranged himself in his jeans.

"I know it's frustrating, but you have to take things slowly," Louis counselled. "Long term it will work better. "

"Short term it'll drive me crazy," Harry mused.

Louis tucked his hands in his pockets to ward off the chill.

"So, can I ask what happened?" Harry's question came among the birdsong and exquisite silence hanging in the damp air.

"I had an affair with a client," Louis admitted. "I shouldn't have."

"But he was a consenting adult," Harry glanced at him but kept his focus on manoeuvring through the fallen leaves.

The grounds to the mansion were stunning and Louis would miss waking up to the feeling of being isolated.

"All I know is that one day we were fucking and he was telling me how he wanted to marry me and make things permanent and the next day I was served papers telling me to stay away and I had the press calling me about an abuse of position of trust allegation.”

The way he said it bared the facts. It didn’t bare his heart or the pain he'd endured because of Victor’s betrayal.

"Did you love him?"

"Thought I did," Louis swallowed. "Now I know I really didn't. Just got caught up in it all, in the fake promises and lies..."

"I'm sorry. "

Louis hadn't been convinced that Harry was capable of sympathy until now.

"You could get targeted too," Louis warned.

"Anything's better than them talking about how bitter and twisted I am..."

Louis smiled at him, the smile turning sad at the edges.

"Will you tell them the truth if they accuse me?"

Harry paused, leaves rustling at his feet as he turned.

"Yes of course...of course I will."

Louis let out a breath. He might not trust anyone completely at their word but it would do for now.

"Okay, five minutes without crutches," Louis said.

Harry looked uncertain.

"Really?"

"Really," Louis put out a hand expectantly.

Harry shook the crutches carefully from his arms and handed them over.

He took a few steps without the aid, shaky in his execution.

"It feels weak," he put out a hand to take the crutches back.

"This from the guy who scoffed at using them," Louis teased.

Still he came closer and braced an arm around Harry’s back.

"Don’t lean into me ok? Just if you feel a bit shaky push back into my arm. I've got you."

Harry looked at him, eyes wide and lips puffy. He licked them, eyes flaring a bit to signal his fear.

"I've got you," Louis promised. "Lean back and try it..."

Harry's arm went around him too before he did indeed lean back as though he were collapsing. Louis wrapped both arms around him with a smile, stepping back after.

"See."

"Strong for a little guy, aren't you?" Harry murmured.

"Stop stalling," Louis accused. " Let's go, Princess..."

Harry began to walk slow and tentative at first, losing his footing on some wet leaves, but Louis was there to support him when he looked about to topple . He gave him his crutches back when he asked for them short moments later and Louis knew he'd gotten too attached to them.

They had to start the stretches next.

//

"You know ballet?"

Louis watched as Harry started doing Barre exercises using the metal pole that ran the length of his pool.

It was heated to a lovely warm temperature and surrounded by greenery, creating the perfect oasis.

Louis was trying hard to remember why he had suggested the idea.

Seeing Harry in a wet black t-shirt and small yellow shorts was probably more than most men deserved before lunch.

He didn't ask why Harry kept his t-shirt on, he’d just left his on too before joining him in the lush water.

"I learned a bit for the routines," Harry shared. "The stretches are the same..."

"Did you ever do the floor stretches?" Louis wondered, gently supporting Harry in a plié by cupping a hand around his side.

Harry's eyes shifted to him, wild hair weighed flat with the water. He’d dove straight in despite Louis' suggestion not to.

He looked different like this. Younger somehow. More fragile.

"That's my muffin," he said.

Louis gave him a bemused look.

"What?"

"That you're touching," he rolled his eyes. "My fat."

"Oh this?" Louis dragged his fingertips over the flesh slightly. "We call them love handles."

"We?" Harry hedged with a dubious glance.

"Guys who like something to get hold of," he smirked.

Harry tipped his chin in trying not to smile. It didn't work and he honked out an embarrassing laugh.

"Wow," Louis teased. "Didn't know I was so funny..."

"Shut up," Harry grumbled.

Louis moved his hand to a safer place while Harry continued his slow squats in the water.

"This is really good," Louis praised. "You could do a set of these every day."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, water dripping from his fringe into his eye.

Louis brushed it back.

"Only in the water for now. I was going to start you on the other stretches next week."

"Yay," Harry smiled.

Louis showed him how to tip his leg forward then reverse the move slowly behind.

"I'd like to do another massage after this."

"Okay."

"If it hurts too much you can tell me..."

"Ah...ah," Harry's hand clutched at his shoulder as he veered to his right, hand cupping his bad left hip.

"Harry?" Louis gripped him by his ribs to hold him steady. He could feel the play of muscles between bones; his lungs working to draw breath in and push it out.

He had the overwhelming urge to press his thumbs against his peaked nipples; standing to attention in the cool air outside the warm pool.

Harry got his footing, sliding his hands down to Louis’ biceps but leaving them there. Their position solidified Harry's wavering stance.

"Felt like cramp," he finally said.

"Okay let's stop there," Louis said. "I'll do some massage. When you're ready I'll be in the therapy room."

//

"You didn't bruise me."

Louis warmed the muscle rub on his hands before circling his palm over Harry's skin.

"Was I meant to?" He wondered.

Harry smiled faintly.

"The others...when they did the pressing thing...they bruised me."

Louis made sure to run his fingers ever so gently over Harry's hip, face marred at the memory of the fading bruise he'd seen himself.

"Nobody should bruise you."

_You're perfect._

He swallowed at his own thoughts, slipping his fingers across Harry's belly. It was a dangerous game but Harry's throaty noise and the tiny twist of his hips were enough to have him wanting to play it.

He kneaded into his back, too, gently working up his spine; one hand thumbing his lower back dimples.

"Dimples everywhere," he accused huskily.

Harry hummed.

Louis squeezed the soft patch that Harry hated, swirling his hand back over his abdomen and disorganising his happy trail with his exploring fingers.

"Feels tight," Harry told him, voice low.

"Here?" Louis asked, thumbing over his v-line.

"Here," Harry relocated his hand beneath his belly button as he shifted onto his back.

Louis couldn't avoid noticing the semi stirring in his pretty yellow shorts.

"Yeah, I hate to be the one to break it to you but-"

"Shh," Harry hushed him with a flicker of a smirk. "I won't tell if you won’t..."

Louis swallowed. This was what had got him in trouble before. A weakness for beautiful men. But Harry was nothing like Victor; not even in the same realm and yet Louis...

Louis wanted to remedy the situation in his shorts with some expert massage. Or his mouth. Whichever.

Which just wasn't -

"Mm, Louis..."

Harry pulled both his hands up onto his belly, pressing his palms down gently into his skin and Louis prayed to the gods while he worked away any hint of muscle tightness (which didn't include the bulge in his shorts).

"Harry," Louis swallowed.

"Hm?"

"I think we should stop...I have to stop," he babbled, snatching his hands away. The oil glistened on the trail of hair from his belly down to his shorts; the hairs skewed in all directions.

Louis didn't know what made him do it but he reached out to smooth the pattern with his fingertip, licking his lips and letting out a sigh when he was done.

Harry was watching him, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I should clean up," Harry said and struggled to sit up on the bench until Louis helped him to get up.

He tried not to think about the way Harry's dick pressed thickly against the damp yellow material of his shorts; big in length and girth by anyone's standards.

 _I'm a bottom even though I look like a top_.

Louis looked down to his own groin and winced. He too housed a bulge. Which Harry likely saw. And...

Louis sighed.

He just didn't need a complication in his job right now.

 _Tomorrow_.

Tomorrow he would stop finding Harry attractive. That meant he still had tonight. To stroke himself out and bite back Harry's name as he came. Yeah. He still had tonight.

//

"Hi."

It was the first time Louis had heard him say it. It was also the first time Harry had joined him for breakfast since he'd moved in.

"Hi." Louis said back.

Harry had shaved. Louis missed the prickles a little but he was pleased to note he hadn't trimmed his hair. He flicked his eyes over the soft, sleep mussed nest to make absolutely sure.

Harry wore plaid pyjamas. It was a shocking revelation.

"How are we this morning?" The younger man asked.

"We're fine," Louis replied lifting his brows. "How're you two?"

Harry smirked and Louis realised too late that Harry thought he was talking about him and his dick. He stuffed his toast in his mouth and chewed.

Harry's smile turned a notch filthy.

"Well one of us is very happy," he shared in a too-deep, sex voice. "And the other one didn't get much sleep so," he shrugged.

Louis swallowed.

He didn't get much sleep either. Turned out one session with his hand hadn't quite been enough and he'd woken three hours later still hard, releasing another sticky splurge. Thinking that was his limit, he'd gone back to sleep only to come a third time in his sleep. He refused to recall the dream he'd had which inspired that incident but he couldn't quite look Harry in the eye.

"You can have a lay-in if you want," Louis assured. "Don't want to overdo the muscle use in your hip."

Harry poured them both a tea, something that confused Louis. He’d assumed Harry would be waited on and even if he wasn't, the simple act of making someone tea was quite telling.

"Here you go," Harry pushed a cup toward him. "Sugar? Milk?"

"Yes and yes," Louis added some of each.

Harry chomped on a banana, eyes meeting Louis'.

"Thank you, by the way. For breakfast and everything.... for feeding me," Louis corrected.

"Well you looked like you hadn't eaten for a month when you got here," Harry accused lightly.

 _I hadn't_.

"I-"

"Mr. Styles senior is here to see you, Sir," Liam strode into the room.

"Oh, fuckity fuck," Harry whispered, standing up and pulling back his shoulders. In the same move he plastered on a smile.

"Daddy!" He called in a posh, plummy accent that Louis only faintly recalled from their first meeting.

Mr. Styles Snr moved into the room; a tall and robust man with silver hair and the kind of thick set fit physique one would expect of a man of his wealth.

"Harold," the older man chimed. "How the devil are you?"

Harry nodded, flicking his eyes to Louis.

"Dad, I'd like you to meet Louis Tomlinson...my therapist..."

"Oh, hello there! Do beg your pardon," Mr. Styles turned. "Call me Des."

"Mr. Styles," Louis shook his hand with a wan smile.

"Oh, very well," Des smiled back. "You've lasted longer than the others I see..."

"We're already making progress," he confirmed.

"Good....my boy deserves that World gold," he murmured. "Maybe you're the man to make it happen."

"Dad..."

"We're starting with small goals," Louis corrected. "See how we get on..."

"The amount he’s paying. I'd expect him to be fixed by the weekend!" The older man joked.

Louis just stared at him.

"Well, this was just a flying visit to make sure you hadn't burned the place down or slit your wrists," Des told his son.

Harry gave him a wan smile.

"Everything is fine."

"Right-io, must dash ... good to meet you, Tomlinson," Des said before he exited the room.

Louis looked to Harry.

"Whiskey?" Harry offered, walking to the decanter.

//

Watching Harry curl up in an armchair with a drink was one of the greatest privileges of living with him, Louis thought.

He looked small in the grand furniture; prettier than its worn patterns and far brighter than any colour sewn into its covers.

"You haven't, have you?" Louis spoke first, gently pulling Harry from his thoughts.

"Haven't what?" Harry sipped the drink and Louis watched him swallow it down, wanting to lick the taste off his tongue.

"Slit your wrists?"

Harry scoffed but Louis knew. He knew there must have been dark places among what now seemed to be light. He knew because Harry had forgotten how to smile and now that he'd started to do it more often, his dimple remembered its place and appeared even when Harry's lips weren’t curved. Before that Louis didn't even know he had a dimple.

"No," he added sullenly, pressing his lips together as if to stop himself adding; "But I wanted to".

Louis ached to touch, to hold him. He knew he couldn’t.

"If you decide not to skate again it's not the end of the world."

Harry huffed again.

"Not to you maybe. To him it is. What am I then? A failure and a freak."

"You're not a freak," Louis reprimanded him. "You're not a failure either."

"I wasn't doing my warm up right, you said so..."

"I asked a few questions," Louis softened his voice. "You had people around you who were meant to look after you. Yes, as an athlete you know your routine but ultimately they're there to keep you safe. And they didn't, Harry."

Harry nodded with a pouty lip.

"Can't just buy my way out now, can I?"

Louis sipped his whiskey.

"No, you can't. "

"I don't know what hard work is."

"Who told you that?"

Harry shrugged.

"It’s a lie," Louis said. "You had to work hard to get a 9.8, didn't you? You worked yourself too hard, didn't you, love?"

Harry looked up at the endearment. Part of him wanted to hear Louis call him _baby_ but he had no reason why.

"Maybe I did."

"They pushed you, too didn't they?"

Harry nodded again quietly.

"Then it's not your fault and you're trying your best to fix it."

"Shouting at everyone who tries to help isn't exactly trying my best..."

"You've stopped shouting at me," Louis smiled.

Harry swallowed.

"Yes. I have."

"So that's progress. Although I still fully expect retaliation at every stage," he teased.

They sat in comfortable silence.

"Why do you let him get to you?" Louis' voice was husky when he spoke.

"Because he's my Dad."

"Nobody has the right to make you feel that way," Louis urged. "Nobody."

Harry swallowed another sip of his drink with a little sniffle.

"Can we go for a walk today or do I have to levitate?"

"Elevate you mean," Louis corrected him with a grin. "What do you feel like?"

"Talking," Harry admitted.

"We can do that either way."

Harry hummed tilting his head.

"Let's walk," he suggested.

Louis got up to change into something warm.

//

"In the spring the rabbits start coming out to mate," Harry told him as they walked.

Louis carried the crutches, timing Harry's walking without them. He was pleased to see Harry no longer limped with a wince, no longer tried to keep his weight off his bad side.

He walked slowly with a concentrated furrow of his brows in getting his movement right. It was more of a hobble than a limp now.

"Must you watch me be an invalid?" He accused suddenly while Louis surveyed him, patiently waiting for more wildlife facts.

"You're not an invalid," Louis breathed. "And yeah I do have to watch you because it's my job."

"Is it?" Harry arched a brow.

Louis felt fear prickle his skin. As though Harry was going to bring up his past again and accuse him of being a pervert. Louis might even deserve it for the way he couldn't stop stroking the other man's belly when he should have been massaging his hip. Completely different pressure; different touch.

He swallowed and looked away with a sigh.

"You do realise nobody wants to fuck me?" Harry casted.

The question was stark and unexpected. Louis looked back at the boy.

"Can't kneel, can't spread my legs...unless I lay on my front and-" Harry shook his head with a bitter smile. "And that hurts so..."

Louis bit his lip. Harry was right. Sex was difficult with an injury like his. At twenty-one it must be frustrating not to be able to enjoy it.

"It shouldn't hurt," was what he chose to say. "If you go about it properly," he added with a clearance of his throat. "There's another position you could try..."

Harry glanced over, sullen lips pursed.

"Oh?"

Louis felt his cheeks warm and smiled despite it.

"Well your partner lays on the bed and you with your back to them on top...you'd have to put your feet between his to take the pressure off your hip and he'd have to do most of the work but..."

Harry stared.

"Any others?"

Louis found his lips tugging into a smirk; warm eyes meeting wide green ones.

"If you were careful you could lean forward onto something...a counter or table maybe," Louis described. "But you might have difficulty getting back up."

Harry laughed, quiet and dry.

"Some great lay I am."

Louis regarded him as they entered the thick pine forest. Harry lifted his chin to smell the air, lashes fluttering until they rested on his cheeks. Louis felt a corresponding tug deep down in his gut. He wanted to taste those beautiful lips and watch those eyelids slide shut for very different reasons. Part of him maybe also wanted to prove that sex didn't have to hurt.

"The birds nest in here," he said, voice deep.

Louis passed over the crutches and Harry stopped, looking at them first and then at Louis.

"Do I have to?"

"Yeah you do," he mused. "Unless you want to feel that familiar little shooting pain every time you move again..."

Harry ground his teeth together and lifted his hands from his pockets.

"It’s not too late to sack you," he muttered as he snatched the crutches.

Louis felt the wallop of a reminder at what he would lose if Harry did send him away. Not only his job, but his temporary home. He'd instructed Harry not to pay him a salary; instead taking food and accommodation as his payment.

He bowed his head and twisted to walk on.

"No opposition?" Harry enquired as he followed more slowly behind.

The truth was, Louis was ashamed. He was ashamed at losing his flat he was mortified at being found walking the streets with his possessions in two suitcases and he was infinitely uncomfortable staying in a mansion with a man he feared he liked altogether too much.

"I think we both know why," he remarked.

Harry laughed and it was such a beautiful sound Louis found himself looking over to catch his smile; wide and pretty, punctuated with the creases in his cheeks and his bright, white teeth.

"You don't get to kiss my ass now," he accused lightly. "Me giving you a room doesn't mean you can't argue..."

Louis lifted a brow.

"I'm not going to--to kick you out on the street, Louis." He huffed, olive eyes shadowed by the trees. His lips quirked. "If you piss me off then I'll just send you to your room."

"Really," Louis drawled, his own smile tugging at his mouth. "You'll send me to my room? Doesn't sound like bad punishment..."

Harry looked out into the vast blanket of trees.

"Maybe I'll send you to my room instead," he muttered, a thought to himself almost. "And you can most certainly kiss my ass then..."

It wasn't a poke at Louis. It was a genuine flirtation. Louis couldn’t explain why his body reacted to that...why he liked the suggestion.

It was true, Harry was powerful; a natural born leader with a misguided idea of importance...but he bottomed; he had already told Louis that much.

Kissing his sweet little ass would probably be the greatest privilege of his life. The way he'd curl and flick his tongue into him slow and teasing would have Harry boneless instantly, calling out in that rough, deep voice of his.

But the idea he'd boss Louis around was quite hilarious. Louis might be a gentleman but he was nobody's slave.

But somehow, watching those long slim legs and temptingly thick thighs as they strolled along; Louis could picture himself agreeing to nearly anything to please the man.

Despite his infuriatingly pumped up ego and insanely stubborn streak.

"Huh," he frowned at his own realisation; tearing his gaze away.

Harry didn't need another complication in his life and Louis would certainly be that.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't have my laptop so again I cannot count pages---sorry! :'''(

_chapter 5_

 

"What's this?"

Harry stood with his hands on his hips; his favourite yellow shorts pulled on with a different t-shirt; a grey marl one which looked soft to touch.

Louis pointed at the hot-tub he'd managed to get working.

"Hot..." He swung his finger over to the old ceramic bath parked beside it. "Cold."

Harry's eyes widened.

"You are kidding?"

Louis shook his head.

"One minute in each, three times."

"What the fuck," Harry wrapped his arms around himself as though he could already feel the chill. "Can't I just have heat therapy?”

"It hurts today doesn't it?" Louis squinted.

Harry flicked his eyes away.

"We walked a lot yesterday and I'm starting your stretches tomorrow so this will help ease it up."

Harry scowled.

"You should have to do it, too."

"I'm not injured," Louis smiled wanly.

"It’s called camaraderie," Harry tutted.

"We're not fighting a war," Louis quipped.

"Feels like it," Harry muttered.

Louis curled a hand around his arm as he approached.

"Hot tub first."

"Because you're a sadist," Harry accused, grasping the handrail to let himself down into the bubbling warmth.

"Because I'm good actually," Louis clicked his stopwatch to start. "None of my clients ever really appreciate that."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You just think you're good. When really you just like watching people suffer..."

"Fine, want me to take part?" Louis checked.

Harry nodded.

Louis went and stood in the ice bath.

"Fuck me," he ground out, hopping from foot to foot.

Harry let out a cackle from the hot tub.

"See?"

"One minute!" Louis stepped out of the bath and helped Harry in, lowering him carefully into the freezing cold depths.

"Shit," Harry bit out. "My bits are shrinking..."

"Your nipples are hard too," Louis told him with smug smile, dancing over to stand in the hot tub only up to his knees.

Harry pressed his hand against his chest.

"This hurts."

"But your hip won't after," Louis crowed.

"Are you going to massage it again?"

He almost sounded hopeful. Almost.

"Tomorrow...after stretching," he replied.

"Fine," Harry leaned up a bit. "Has it been a minute yet?"

Louis had to lift Harry out of the bath bridal style; Harry's arms reluctantly circling his shoulders while Louis got his feet to the ground.

He felt stiff straightening up but some of the pain had receded.

"Hot," Louis pointed.

Harry stared at him, looking like a drowned rat; sopping wet clothing and damp hair.

"Yes, Sir..." He trailed to the warm pool and climbed in. "I'm staying here!"

Louis stepped into the ice bath with a "hoo-ha!" that made Harry dimple.

"You're ridiculous." Harry accused.

"Am I?" Louis enquired. "I think you should call me Sir more often..."

"Oh yeah?" Harry splashed the water a bit. "Got a kink?"

Louis licked his lips. Harry didn't need to know about his kinks. Didn't need to know they included fucking him into the bed and spreading him out to lick over his laurel tattoos; to keep sucking them with pretty kisses until he came untouched. He didn't need to know any of that.

"Not the one you're thinking of," Louis teased. "Change!"

Harry didn't want to leave the warmth. Louis had to wade in to pull him out by the hands, again helping him lay in the small bath.

He didn't swap this time. Harry shivered and hissed on sinking into the ice water so Louis waited at his side, gently swiping his falling fringe away.

If Harry wondered why he was doing it; if he felt uncomfortable, he didn't say.

"Just think when you're walking pain free you'll be thanking me," he goaded softly.

Harry flicked wary eyes to him with a chuck of air.

"Whatever you wish to believe, Louis. "

Louis nodded, scooping his arms around him to get him up. Once upright, his hand settled in the small of Harry’s back as he escorted him back to the hot pool.

Harry twisted and grabbed his wrist at the last second, causing Louis to fall in.

"You little-!" He gasped as he surfaced.

Harry giggled, loud and unbidden and Louis felt his heart trip over in his chest.

"Oops," Harry smirked.

"You could have hurt yourself," Louis chided gently as he wiped the water off his hair and arms.

Harry's eyes went over him in his now clinging wet shorts and t-shirt; his gaze lingering on certain spots.

"You're nice," he said.

Louis wasn't sure what that meant.

"Like...you’re strong even though you don't look it," Harry described. "You have nice shoulders and," his fingers went to his own collarbones. "Here. "

Louis swallowed, a pulsing starting between his thighs.

"Nice legs too," Harry grinned. "Nice chest."

Louis didn't know much about Harry's dating history but he knew he didn't want to become a part of it.

"Last cold dip," he said but his throat felt thick and his voice was paper thin.

"Going to make me, Tomlinson?" Harry challenged.

Louis' mouth went dry.

"Alright, alright," Harry huffed, offering his hand to Louis to help him up.

Louis guided him back to the bath, lowering him down and stroking the back of his neck to take off some of the edge of the extreme cold.

He went and fetched his favourite gown and wrapped him into it.

"Get dried off and wear something warm," Louis told him. "I want to come and talk to you about a plan."

Harry belted the gown tightly around his middle like usual, hovering to consider Louis' face.

"Tea in the library, perhaps?"

Louis pursed his lips at the grandeur of it all.

"Alright, see you inside."

//

It felt so good, that was the thing.

Louis had always enjoyed getting himself off.

And thinking about Harry added a whole new dimension of hot that should have been predictable.

He was hard; achingly so even as he moved his hand over himself and let out shaky, disbelieving breaths at how quickly that had happened.

He couldn't face Harry in a meeting without coming; without purging his want.

He bent his head in the shower; hot water beating against the back of his neck as he stroked as slowly as Harry talked.

"Oh...oh!"

Yeah, it was good. He imagined Harry in the shower with him, with his wet hair and wet skin and flirty mouth. He imagined Harry's hand around him; long sure fingers.

Louis was certain Harry wasn't a virgin and it pickled his mind wondering about it; about how smooth he was or was he a little bit clumsy; distracted by desire?

The way he moved all smooth and sleek Louis couldn't imagine him being out of sync in any other area of life but he silently liked the challenge of changing that.

Maybe he could make Harry stutter and hitch? Maybe his fingers twisting into him would be enough for his legs to spasm; thighs shaking at the intensity. Maybe his kisses would be enough to melt Harry into the bed, forgetting about his burden and his pain for long enough to let himself come; gloriously thick and pretty over his tattooed belly.

Louis laughed and it tailed into a moan; sticky release splashing over his tummy and hand.

Fuck. He had to get a grip. For Harry's sake if not his own.

//

Harry eyed the votive of whiskey that Louis had helped himself to; sitting behind the heavy oak desk in Harry's expensive office chair.

His long fingers ran along the edge of it.

"A good surface to be bent over," he mused.

Louis tossed back the whiskey and choked at the burn.

"I need to understand what you want to achieve from the program," he said anyway, bypassing the suggestive comment.

"Ah," Harry nodded and sat down.

Louis watched him with assessing eyes, clicking his pen as he sat back.

"Do you want to skate again?"

Harry swallowed.

"Maybe..."

"To what extent?"

Louis' question earned him a shrug.

"For now, can we say...I'll get you on the ice enough to have fun?"

Harry blinked at him.

"Have fun?"

Louis stood up and rounded the desk.

"Yeah you know...casual skating with friends at the rink… skating because it makes you feel good."

"I-" Harry frowned thoughtfully tugging his lower lip between finger and thumb. He’d done as Louis had asked and dressed in a pair of jeans with a bright jumper.

"You...?" Louis prompted.

"I haven't done that for a while," he admittedly quietly. Maybe ever.

From the age of six he'd learned he loved skating and from then on it became hard work.

"Okay, it's a good place to start then..."

"Do you skate?" Harry asked.

Louis perched his bum on the edge of the desk.

"I do," he confirmed with a knowing smile.

He saw Harry release a breath.

"Good. I want you there when I... "

Louis nodded with a hum.

"Fine."

He looked at Harry in the seat in front of him.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Falling," Harry answered too quickly, eyes focusing off in a distance Louis couldn't see. "Afraid of getting hurt again."

"Ok. We'll take it as slow as you need to."

Harry looked up at him as though they were talking about something else and Louis felt a residual trickle of arousal shimmer through him from his shower not half an hour ago.

"Ok."

Louis had expected a fight. He’d expected Harry to be the difficult customer all of his previous therapists had claimed him to be.

"Why didn't you finish the plans the others gave you?" He wondered.

Harry shrugged.

"None of them understood," Harry shared. "You seem to."

Louis nodded, taking in a breath to break the spell being cast from Harry's soul-searching gaze.

"Tomorrow at ten we start stretches," Louis confirmed.

"What do I do now? Elevate?"

Louis turned down his lips.

"Are you in pain?"

Harry shook his head.

"Then you can go for a drive and get out for a bit..." Louis suggested.

"Do you drive?" Harry asked.

Louis smirked.

"Some might call it driving."

Harry smiled.

"Will you drive me somewhere?"

Louis thought about it. It would be nice to get off the grounds, maybe grab a few essentials from town and have Harry show him the boutique shops.

He straightened from his perch and saluted.

"Chauffeur Louis at your dispense, Princess..."

Harry snickered and flicked out a socked foot to kick his shin but Louis cupped his balls all the same.

"Thought we'd gotten over the physical violence stage..." He teased as he twisted away.

Harry stood slowly in stages and followed.

  
//

The chances of being seen were high. Louis slid from the seat of Harry's extravagant Land Rover and settled his feet on the ground with certain trepidation at what might come.

People wouldn’t recognise him, but they would recognise Harry. And in a small town like this, they would take interest in his new friend. Before long Louis' identity would be sought and found and the headlines would follow.

His heart clenched in his chest; shoulders stiffening almost against an unseen onslaught.

"Shall we have a beer to start?"

Harry's voice was soft and low as he came up beside him, buttoning up his grand long coat and tucking his chin into the collar as he pulled up the lapels, too.

Louis checked his watch. The bar would be open, just. But he really ought to get a handle on his drinking.

"We should probably just try and be quick," he admitted. "Try and control the damage to your reputation."

Harry lifted a bemused brow as he positioned his crutches to walk beside him. Louis had suggested he might need the support after relieving his pain with his heat and ice baths just that morning.

"Oh really? You’re that dangerous?"

Louis didn’t answer, jammed his hands into his pockets and headed for the drug store. Harry followed after him.

"It doesn’t bother me you know."

Louis sighed, aiming for the men’s toiletries aisle.

"I mean it's pretty obvious you're not a predator," Harry mumbled. "You haven't tried to fuck me once..."

Louis turned sharply to glare at him.

"I don’t get why everyone just believes some stupid story a guy made up." Harry added.

"Because he's famous and I'm not," Louis hissed. "Because he knew I was emotionally invested and he deliberately tricked me so that he could get my services for free," he added bitterly. "All of my services," he mused. "Even the ones I don’t usually charge for..."

Harry licked his lips, curling his upper one into his mouth.

"He didn’t pay you?"

Louis huffed, averting his eyes.

"That’s why you were losing your flat?"

"I couldn’t find work afterwards either," Louis swallowed. "People thought the second I started massaging them, I was going to touch them up..."

Harry's lips switched from being sucked into his mouth to being pursed outwards. He crowded closer to Louis, leaning on his crutch.

"Erm..."

Louis couldn’t help huffing and breaking into a smile. He had touched Harry up, it was true. Only his tummy but it was still not strictly part of the required treatment.

"I never let anything happen with Victor while I worked," Louis explained quietly. "We only ever slept together in his bed. I've never-" Louis paused.

_I've never let the two cross. Until now._

"Louis, I know," Harry's fingers tightened around his wrist.

"I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel uncomfortable," he added awkwardly.

Harry choked out a breathy half-laugh.

"I was only uncomfortable until I could get a hand around myself," he quipped honestly with a dirty curve of his lips.

Louis felt his breathing sharpen. Harry backed away a bit, pretending to ponder the contents of the shelf.

He picked up a box of condoms and some lube and crutched his way to the till.

"You’re still supposed to be walking!" Louis called after him, earning a dimpled smile as Harry rounded the corner.

//

"I think we should talk about you," Louis suggested as they sipped their much-needed beer.

Harry flicked his eyes towards the bar menu, sliding it towards him.

"Are we staying for lunch?"

"If you want to be front page news tomorrow, sure..."

"I'll be front page news anyway," Harry countered. "'Hermit leaves house for first time in two years'," he paraphrased.

Louis twisted his lips.

"You must have some friends..."

"Not ones that care about anything other than my bank account," he shared. "Well, unless we're counting the leprechaun who tore strips off me..."

"He had no right to call you," Louis said right away.

"He's a good friend, Louis, don’t lose him."

Louis glanced around the room, pressing his fringe away from his eye to see better.

"I've got a plan for when we're finished," Louis said then, the words automatic, almost.

Harry blinked at him as though Louis thought he wouldn’t notice.

"You do?"

"Yeah...I got a bit of money for my furniture and I put it away so I can use that until the next job comes along...I'm thinking of going into teaching. Adults, of course," he added. "Non-contact."

Harry stared at him steadily until Louis' nervous gaze finally came back around to him.

"What?"

Harry scoffed.

"You’re giving up."

"No, I'm adjusting," Louis commented.

"Louis, you're the only guy I've managed to stick for longer than two weeks and you’ve had more success than all of the others put together. You think that's a talent you can waste by teaching others?"

"It’s not a waste if I'm passing it on, is it?" Louis asked tersely, flicking his eyes to the side.

"Stop fucking thinking about it," Harry's hand snaked across the table and grasped his wrist.

Louis stared resolutely at the wooden surface.

"I don’t care what the people here think. If they think I'm fucking you then so what? I'm old enough to know what I'm getting into...I'm stubborn enough not to be _coerced_ ," he whispered the word menacingly; deliberately proving to Louis that his fear and paranoia had no place in his presence.

"You don't-you don't--"

"Understand?" Harry's hand loosened, thumb brushing over the inside of his wrist. "Will you let me even try?"

Louis shook his head, tears coming to his eyes that he didn’t want or need to be gathering there.

"I'm not going to let that bastard win, Louis," he whispered. "And you shouldn’t either..."

Louis shot up out of his seat and yanked his hand away, startled eyes shooting around the room. Only when he saw it was nearly empty did he breathe out and bolt for the door.

"Lou!" Harry called desperately after him.

Louis didn’t turn or stop.

//

Harry had a beautiful body.

Louis hadn't allowed himself to look it up online despite his very eager urge to; if only for the sake of having something to wank off to.

And Harry kept covered up at most other times which was unusual considering his costumes showed everything off about his long, lean form.

He hadn't quite worked out what the issue was with his apparent self-consciousness but the fact he found he wanted to, should have been a warning that he was getting in way too deep.

Louis dove into the pool; body completely bare of clothes.

He needed to feel the water warmly lapping his skin; smoothly gliding over him in every place; even between his legs. Maybe the chlorine could magically clean his soul.

He couldn’t go there again, he couldn’t get involved with a man who could ultimately end up destroying him. He couldn’t.

But he wanted to.

 _Fuck_.

His chest ached with how much he wanted to.

Harry was classically wounded; curved shoulders and pouty lips and all Louis wanted to do when he found him like that at the breakfast table was to walk right over and gather him into a hug.

Harry had hugged him when he’d cried that time; protecting him from the cold and Louis only wanted the same back; was it really so wrong?

Louis surfaced, treading water, heart thumping in his chest.

It was wrong. So very, very wrong. His breath hitched as he focused on another figure; one clinging to the metal bar at the side.

"I didn’t get the skinny-dipping invite."

Louis' eyes went over him. He was wearing another t-shirt under water, the thin white material flapping upwards gently with the rhythm of the pool; baring his tummy that Louis could hardly make out in the lack of light. He had different shorts on...maybe even boxer-briefs if Louis was making it out correctly.

"You do know what skinny dipping means don’t you?" He asked back, slowly swimming closer.

Harry shrugged, his hands going beneath the surface in a flurry of activity and Louis got to within a foot of him as the wet slap of cloth hit concrete. He'd taken off his shorts. Louis paused.

"Happy now?" Harry asked.

Louis' eyes went to his chest. The material of his t-shirt was barely shrouding what lay beneath; smooth, wide, muscled chest and sweet, peaked nipples.

"Oh," Harry swallowed, clutching the bar and kicking his legs languidly. "You want that off, too."

Louis grabbed the bar beside him, fingers pressing against his wrist as Harry moved to lift the material.

"Not if you don’t want to," he said.

Harry stared at him, gaze falling to his lips. His mouth tipped up in one corner, pooling his dimple.

"Somehow, you’re the only person who makes me want to," he breathed.

Louis frowned, clutching the edge of the floating t-shirt to wrap it around his fist, brushing his knuckles against Harry's ribs.

"Doesn’t mean you have to," Louis assured.

Harry ducked to kiss him but Louis let go of his t-shirt and twisted to kick himself away; swimming to the other end of the pool and circling back again.

"Tease!" Harry called.

Louis floated in front of him.

Harry reached out, gentle fingers wrapping around his forearm to pull him in. His plush lips pressed together; releasing to showcase plump, red lips.

Louis lifted his chin, swallowing hard as their bodies brushed together, Harry's arm now loosely scooped around his waist.

"Why, Tomlinson, what kind of therapy is this?" Harry whispered, dark eyes glittering in the moonlight.

Louis pressed his hands against his chest, biting his lip against the temptation to move them lower.

"Take it off." Harry's voice was slow; like thick treacle dripping off the spoon; sweet and a little gooey.

Louis caught up the floating hem once more in his fingers, legs swirling to keep himself afloat in Harry's little prison.

He dragged the material upwards, fingers gliding against his tummy muscles and earning a noise from Harry's throat. Louis splayed his hand, watching Harry's eyes flutter shut, watching his throat bob with a swallow.

"Take it off," he repeated with more emphasis.

Louis let his hands glide up over his skin with the journey of the t-shirt, clutching at his shoulders and gently stretching the neck to tug it over his head. Harry felt warm to touch; his eyes felt intense as they gazed at him.

Louis wondered if that was it; if the moment was ended or was it just beginning.

"Give me your hand..."

Louis twisted to toss the t-shirt away and turned his hand palm up, clutching Harry’s bicep to keep his buoyancy. Harry cupped his hand underneath Louis' and moved it; pressing it into his side and sliding it lower.

Louis looked at him with a confused frown, momentarily worried that his hip was hurting but then Harry adjusted the hold slightly, positioning it over the mound of fat on his hip.

"I met a guy, after," he began talking, lips puffy from the cold air. He shuddered and Louis drifted closer. "We couldn’t get in sync, somehow...everything we tried just seemed to hurt."

Louis squeezed his hip gently.

"He grabbed me here...I'm not-I'm not used to having fat on my body," he frowned, eyes dipping to where their hands rested.

Even now, he was shaky. Louis slid his hand over the mound; thumbing against his hip bone tenderly.

"He told me that only women had fat hips..." Harry smiled but it wasn’t happy. His eyes looked desolate. "And he couldn’t fuck me because it hurt too much so we kind of agreed to part ways," he surmised.

Louis cupped his cheek with his free hand, blue eyes meeting green.

"It won’t always be like that."

"It isn’t like that with _you_ ," he beseeched.

Louis reached forward and Harry’s hands tightened on his waist, head dipping again in an attempt to kiss him but Louis pressed a quiet 'shh' against his cheek and clasped his wet t-shirt from the side of the pool, unfurling it.

Harry watched him with a furrowed brow.

"What're you doing?"

Louis licked his lips.

"I'm not going to pretend I don’t want to undress you," he arched a brow; since his body was keen to betray him by springing a stiffy as they brushed together in the water. "But when I do, it's going to be because we've finished your therapy and I am no longer professionally employed by you..."

Harry lifted his arms as Louis gently prompted him, tugging the cold, wet cloth back over his body with a persistent yank.

"Yuck," Harry shivered against the cold material.

Louis smirked.

"Go to bed, Harry."

"I can sack you, you know," Harry told him again, just because. "And we can start this right now."

Louis shook his head.

"I'm not leaving until you're in a pair of skates and on the ice."

Harry looked at him soulfully, kind of like he wanted to kiss him again.

"Go," Louis encouraged softly, floating out of his arms.

Harry made his way slowly up the side of the pool and climbed the steps, unashamed of his naked backside. Louis enjoyed the wet silhouette of him; broad shoulders and muscular thighs flexing with each step towards the house.

When he turned, Louis didn’t pretend to have not been watching; his gaze dipped to glimpse between his legs.

 _Fuck_.

He wasn't even hard (unlike Louis) but he had a beautiful dick; propped elegantly upon his balls.

"Bed," Louis said again, almost begging him now.

Harry nodded and turned, muttering under his breath.

"I would rather have you in it..."


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

 

"Okay, the first exercise is called a pelvic tilt."

 

Harry looked at Louis with a rueful lift of his brows.

 

"Enough of that, Princess," Louis remarked, shuffling his hand into the small of Harry’s back where he laid on the floor of the gymnasium; a padded mat underneath him.

 

Harry merely let a dimple flash in his cheek before looking back to the ceiling with a focused breath out.

 

"Feet settled on the floor, please, hip width apart...good." Louis tilted his knee out a tiny bit. "You’re going to lift your pelvis off the floor."

 

Harry smirked.

 

"I used to be good at this."

 

"I'm sure you did," Louis murmured. "Focus, please."

 

Harry hesitantly lifted his hips, reassured when Louis' hand pressed into his lower back to support him.

 

"How many?"

 

"Ten," Louis told him.

 

Harry shakily managed eight and took a breather.

 

"I feel like a fucking idiot."

 

"Why?"

 

"I used to be able to do full ballet routines; on the ice," he complained. "Now I can’t even fucking lift my hips..."

 

"Because your muscles are weak and damaged," Louis soothed. "You still have two more to do..."

 

Harry huffed and did two more.

 

"Good. Next, you're going to lift your knees and bring them towards your chest," Louis narrated, moving around to kneel in front of Harry, circling his ankles with his hands. "And you’re going to scissor your legs back and forth, like this," Louis showed him with his arms and then grasped his ankles again. "I'll be here to take the weight of your legs."

 

"Right," Harry grumbled, curling his legs up and rolling his eyes as Louis led the scissoring motion. After five repetitions, he felt a twinge and let his leg go lax. Louis caught the weight of it and lowered it gently down.

 

"You mustn’t drop your feet like that, okay?" Louis counselled. "Try and roll them slowly down. Sudden movement could re-ignite the strain..."

 

Harry sighed. Suddenly it felt very real, the possibility of recovering; or equally, of hurting himself again.

 

Louis supported him through a hamstring stretch and a kneeling hip stretch, moving him to lay back on a bench for the last exercise.

 

"Think I like this one," Harry parted his long legs to wrap them around Louis' knees, earning the other man's disdain.

 

"If you think you can break me, think again."

 

Harry smirked up at him, dragging his fingers casually over the edge of his top to bare his belly; a place he knew Louis had special affinity with. Louis looked; gaze clinging avidly for a moment until he sighed and flicked his eyes away.

 

"You’re a fucking menace."

 

Harry squeezed his thighs against Louis' legs.

 

Louis unwrapped them with firm hands, putting him in position and instructing him on what to do. Harry only giggled breathlessly at Louis' rather ruffled look.

 

"Think we're done here," Louis stood up. "You should do your pool ballet to cool down and then we'll go for a walk later."

 

"Louis," Harry murmured his name with a knowing smile.

 

"See you after dinner?" Louis picked up his towel and slung it around his neck.

 

"Lou..."

 

Louis paused.

 

"What?"

 

"I know you’re turned on."

 

Louis stiffened. _Yeah_ , _he was_. And he couldn’t hide it, his joggers weren’t doing a great job of helping him out there.

 

"I'm turned on, too."

 

Louis let out a derisive snort. Harry had only once been hard around him and that was when he'd stroked his belly.

 

"Look at me."

 

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and begged himself not to turn.

 

"Lou..."

 

Louis twisted, opening his eyes.

 

Harry had worn sweatpants to their session, too and his dick pressed jauntily upwards against the soft material where he was laid back. His fingers idled at his thighs, thumbing absent-minded at his balls.

 

"I'm going to leave," Louis warned him but it was breathy and weak and they both knew it wasn’t true.

 

"Want to watch me?" Harry asked with a gritty voice. "It'll be your name on my lips when I shoot..."

 

Louis closed his eyes and turned resolutely away.

 

He couldn’t let this happen (again).

 

//

 

Louis almost didn't show up for dinner.

 

Harry was surprisingly chipper and didn't make one lewd comment while they ate; instead choosing to tell Louis about his art collection housed in his very own specially built studio on the wing of the mansion.

 

Tendrils of fog were clinging to the bushes as they made their way across the grass and Louis tucked the crutches under his arm.

 

Harry didn't need them now but he liked the security of bringing them just in case.

 

"I could fall down a ditch," he reasoned as they made slow progress.

 

Harry smiled even more now. Even simple things like walking across the back lawn seemed to please him. He also appeared to like being out after dark unless Louis had imagined it.

 

"I would catch you," Louis replied.

 

"But you couldn't carry me home so..."

 

"I could," Louis levelled him with an affronted look. "I _could_ ," he repeated when Harry arched a disbelieving brow.

 

"Fine, whatever..."

 

"You don't believe me," Louis narrowed his eyes.

 

Harry shrugged, down turning his lips thoughtfully. 

 

"Well you are kind of sm-"

 

His sentence was cut off by Louis advancing to manhandle him; lifting him bridal style in his arms with an ease that made Harry momentarily jealous. 

 

"Do you win all your boyfriends this way?" He enquired as Louis began to move with him as cargo. 

 

He was forced to wrap his arms around his neck and cling on.

 

"Hip okay?" Louis smirked, crutches still tucked under his arm awkwardly.

 

"Put me down."

 

"You're the Princess," Louis mused. 

 

"Lou-"

 

Louis stopped and very carefully set Harry's feet to the ground.  Harry righted himself, pushing fingers into his hair.

 

"Very well, I concede. You can very easily carry me should it be required..."

 

Louis laughed at him and kept walking.

 

"Ah!" He called behind him as Harry went to twist and step widely back onto the track.

 

Harry turned himself and started off with a smaller step.

 

"How do you know these things," Harry mumbled to himself as Louis waited for him to catch up.

 

"C'mon, slow coach."

 

//

 

Harry had only gripped Louis’ elbow when his hip started to feel a bit sore. 

 

He refused to acknowledge it had anything to do with the bat that had barrelled out of the bushes through the trees, little webbed wings fluttering madly and causing Harry to shriek and grab Louis for protection.

 

It was Louis who had placed a hand over his in gentle acceptance, twining their fingers unconsciously when he'd roamed away from Harry to look at some night crawlers.

 

Harry liked the feel of Louis' hand. He sucked his lip and felt guilt wash over him at trying to push him into something he was clearly fighting to give into. Their chemistry.  An underlying spark that just refused to be doused.

 

But _this_.

 

This meant more somehow. Soft words and easy laughter. The brush of Louis' thumb across his. It felt like home. Was that even possible?

 

Harry looked at him.

 

"Can you give me a massage when we get back?"

 

Louis gave him a long look.

 

"Does it hurt?"

 

Harry nodded.

 

//

 

Harry lifted the edge of his top and tucked down the band of his boxers. Louis rubbed the menthol ointment gently over the tender spot.

 

"We maybe tried to do too much," he breathed.

 

"No, it feels good," Harry assured. _Just wanted your hands on me._

 

"It feels tight," Louis thumbed over the area carefully. 

 

Harry dragged his free hand to cup his belly. 

 

"Let's not start that again," Louis smiled but it was strained.

 

"It distracts me from the pain," Harry murmured. 

 

Louis curved his hand around his thigh instead, thumb working into the meat of his leg. Harry parted his legs a bit. Louis' thumb dug into the soft skin on the inside; again plump where it was usually hard with muscle and sinewy. 

 

"How's this?" Louis asked, adding pressure to divert Harry's mind from his hip.

 

"Yes," he answered, one hand curling around the back of his arm. "Good."

 

_God you're so beautiful._

 

Louis took a ragged breath. He let his thumbs deepen the massage.

 

"I can do your hamstrings if you'd like?"

 

"Oh?"

 

"Roll onto your tummy..." Louis passed him a towel and moved to turn up the thermostat. 

 

He’d taken his jacket off and looked small and cute in rolled up jeans and bare feet. His hand went through his fringe, distracted as Harry stretched himself out.

 

When Louis' thumbs kneaded into the back of his thigh he yelped, head bending to hide his flaming face.

 

"Not had much action here," Louis teased.

 

"Fuck..."

 

"Too much?" The pressure immediately alleviated.

 

"More," Harry commanded on a thick voice. "Please."

 

Louis hadn't heard him beg very often and the fact he was already too affected to care that he was; was strangely erotic.

 

He focused on the task at hand and ignored the way Harry's hips seemed to have a rhythm; grinding himself slightly into the towel underneath him.

 

"God you're tight," Louis whispered and Harry laughed breathily; canting his hips down with a satisfied moan.

 

"You're also filthy," Louis lamented as he switched sides, earning a pleased gasp from Harry's mouth.

 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

 

"Can you-" Louis begged hoarsely. "Just shush..."

 

Harry bit his forearm in an attempt to silence his mouth but Louis still heard the sounds in his throat, low and dirty.

 

Of all the people in the country to work for, he had to pick the biggest charmer of all time.

 

"I can still hear you," Louis grumbled when Harry whimpered as he brushed a thumb between his lightly haired thighs. 

 

"Then shut me up," Harry breathed, dragging himself to his elbows to give himself enough leverage to rock his hips slow but steady into the towel.

 

Louis stepped back, mouth falling open. He ached to touch him; urged to tangle fingers into his hair and scratch into his lower back to see if that appeased to itch he was trying to reach.

 

"Oh. Oh god..." Harry arched into the towel and Louis swallowed, eyes glued to him in his moment of blinding pleasure.

 

"Louis..."

 

Louis was frozen, throat wadded and jeans uncomfortably tight but he couldn't deny the beautiful boy what he sought.

 

"Want to see you," he murmured, voice strengthening. "C'mon Princess..."

 

Harry's breath hitched and then it was happening, body writhing and legs squirming against the release. It was intense and beautiful to watch, his perfect features all creased up in pleasured concentration.

 

The next time he did that, Louis wanted to be looking into those incredible green eyes.

 

_The next time. Fuck._

 

Harry was moaning softly, hiding his eyes against his forearm as he weakly wriggled on the towel.

 

"Do you have this effect on everyone?" Harry mumbled. 

 

"Can't say it's been an issue before," Louis admitted with a swallow, palming himself with a wince.

 

Harry's eyes flicked there.

 

"Good. Don't like the idea of you getting everyone off this way."

 

Louis met his gaze, electricity leaping between them.

 

"Want to take care of that?" Harry asked.

 

It was only then that Louis realised he'd started stroking himself through the cloth of his jeans.

 

 _Not here,_  his mind answered for him.

 

He turned to go, leaving a dimpled, leg kicking Harry behind.

 

"Have fun, Lou!" He called as Louis retreated quickly to his room.

 

//

 

"Where is he?"

 

Niall Horan pushed his way into the hall past Harry.

 

Harry frowned.

 

"Why, what's going on?"

 

Niall flicked up a newspaper.

 

"You both made the front page."

 

Harry grabbed the paper from Niall’s fingertips and unfolded it.

 

**_"Fresh prey"_ **

 

Harry felt his stomach lurch.

 

 _"Twenty-one-year-old sporting hero, Harry Styles appears to be the latest chosen victim of sexual predator Louis Tomlinson, 28._  

_Tomlinson went into hiding after Oscar Nominee Victor Jackson outed him for his unprofessional conduct during his rehabilitation from a stunt injury._

_Now it appears as though the well-known ice skating champion has employed Tomlinson to rectify his on-going hip injury; but how long is it before the therapist is back to his old tricks?_

_Some even wonder if Styles is aware of Tomlinson's background since he's been a recluse for over two years..."_

 

Niall looked up at a sound from the staircase, instantly moving toward Louis when he saw him there.

 

"Don't you fucking dare let him get to ya!" He warned loudly as Louis bee-lined for the parlour.

 

Niall hastened after him trying to grab him away but Louis resolutely fought him off the reach for the glass crystal bottle filled with Amber liquid.

 

"Lou! I'll fuckin smash it,' Niall warned, reaching for the bottle to topple it. "Sorry Harry!" He threw over his shoulder. 

 

Harry moved slowly into the room.

 

"Smash it," he murmured.  

 

Niall wrapped both his arms around Louis and squeezed tight, Louis’ hand fiddling with the crystal until his shaking became too much and then he gave into it, hitching up air to counteract the pain in his chest.

 

"Just let it go, Lou," Niall soothed.

 

Louis hated crying. He hated that he still had it in him to cry. He hated how ugly it made him look and how disgusting it felt unable to catch his breath and just--

 

"Breathe, Louis. "

 

The second voice in the room was tentative. Almost as if he felt like he was encroaching on something he shouldn't.

 

Niall looked over his shoulder at the boy.

 

Harry glanced away.

 

Niall rubbed Louis' chest.

 

'Seems like you've made a friend..."

 

Louis struggled to be set free.

 

"It's nice to finally meet you," Harry told the Irish man. 

 

Niall rolled his eyes.

 

"I said thank you, didn't I?"

 

Harry nodded.

 

Niall’s arms slipped a bit and Louis took his chance to escape, barrelling past his friend and dodging Harry so as not to jolt him.

 

"Let him go," Harry said as Niall charged forwards.

 

Niall paused.

 

"Is there drink in his room?"

 

Harry shook his head and Niall let out a breath.

 

"He can probably find some easily enough," Harry added. "Maybe he needs to get it out of his system."

 

"I spent a year getting him sober," Niall countered.

 

Harry lifted his brows in surprise.

 

"Oh."

 

"Yeah, Oh," Niall derided.

 

"You should probably go after him in that case," Harry stepped away from the door.

 

Niall looked at him.

 

"Something tells me it should be _you_..."

 

Harry frowned, about to refute that suggestion but already the Irish man was leaving the house, pulling the front door  closed heavily behind him.

 

And _shit_.

 

Harry wasn't good at this. He’d barely convinced Louis to come home with him at the train station; what made Niall think he could stop him drinking?

 

He muttered a few curse words and made for the stairs. By the time he made it up them it would most likely be too late anyway.

 

//

 

Louis was curled into the corner of the sofa in his room when Harry strolled in.

 

"Knock knock..."

 

He didn't have a drink, Harry realised. He was wearing one of Harry’s thick jumpers and the sleeves were wrapped around his hands as though he couldn't get warm enough. He was shaking. 

 

"I'll arrange for them to be sued," he said into the room, hands fidgeting. He slid them into his pockets and then pulled them out again, knocking them together as he came closer. "They'll print a retraction and I'll give a statement too..."

 

Louis gave a wet scoff.

 

Harry swallowed; stopping before him.

 

"I want to help."

 

Louis shook his head, lashes wet and eyes rimmed red. He sniffled and used his sweater paw to dash away the fresh tranche of hot, salty tears spilling down his cheeks.

 

"It's nowhere near the same; him and you," he cast sorely. "But it's still happening! I can't keep doing this!"

 

Harry bit his lip. He really hoped he wasn't the same as Victor. But Louis couldn't help who he was attracted to. It just so happened that Victor had tricked him whereas Harry...well all he wanted to do was to _protect_ him.

 

He sat beside him on the sofa. After a moment of just breathing he reached over, hand curving around Louis' side.

 

"Come here..."

 

Louis curled more tightly into his corner with a shake of his head.

 

"Come on now...stop being difficult.  We both know I always win in the end..."

 

Louis squeezed the cushion tightly in his arms.

 

"At least kick me in the balls to get me back," Harry pleaded.

 

Louis ignored him.

 

Eventually he thought Harry would go. That wasn't what happened. Harry carefully got to his knees on the sofa, a manoeuvre Louis knew would have pained him. And then he felt Harry cover his back with his front, hand digging its way under him to allow him to embrace him.

 

Louis froze under him, sniffling into his sleeve and refusing to relinquish his hold on the cushion.

 

"Hmm," Harry's hand had somehow found its way underneath the jumper and onto his belly. 

 

Louis tried to elbow him off but he was heavy and he didn't want to jog his hip.

 

"I can totally see the benefit of this," Harry murmured, blowing softly against the back of Louis' neck.

 

Louis relaxed a little into the touch.

 

"Mm, there you go..."

 

He huffed a bit. 

 

Harry smiled.

 

"You have about five seconds before my hip gives way," Harry mumbled.

 

"Move then," Louis accused.

 

"Only if you let me cuddle you," Harry bargained.

 

"I'm fucking fine," Louis lamented as Harry moved carefully back into a seated position. 

 

Louis twisted to glance at him. Harry drummed his fingers against his thigh.

 

Louis looked back at his face. _He had to be joking?_

 

Apparently not.

 

Louis shunted himself over, curling his legs over Harry's thigh.

 

Harry merely hauled him into his lap and tightened his arms around him.

 

"Wasn't so hard now was it?" Harry asked in the softest voice.

 

And Louis maybe hated that he'd won.

 

//

 

Harry was doing his pool ballet without his shirt. 

 

Louis didn't like to think too hard about the reasons for that. Whether it was because Louis had told him how attractive he was; or whether he had decided to ramp up his seduction game, he was really better off in the dark.

 

Louis had decided to wear a full tracksuit and stay out of the pool.

 

"Come on Louis!" Harry cajoled as he heaved himself out of the pool and towards the hot tub. 

 

"I'm good thanks."

 

"Lou...please?"

 

Louis gave him an authoritative look.

 

"You can rub my glutes..." Harry invited.

 

Louis wandered close to the edge of the tub, ankle snagged by long fingers toppling him into the bubbly waves.

 

"Fuck’s sake," he muttered moodily as he found ground beneath his feet.

 

"Get this off," Harry tugged at his jumper.

 

Louis looked at Harry's chest, clean of hair, wide and defined with muscle. His own chest wasn't as impressive. His belly curved a bit, his body had a shape that not all guys liked. 

 

He kicked off his trackies and felt Harry snap the band of his boxers.

 

"Wait...do you have two pairs on? Why are you wearing two pairs of panties, Lou?"

 

Louis huffed, tugging his t-shirt down over Harry's curious fingers.

 

"Because."

 

"New kink?" Harry's lips pursed as his eyes sparkled.

 

"No, I just thought it might help," he swallowed.

 

"What, stop me getting in your pants?" Harry smiled mischievously. "Never had to force myself on a guy before. "

 

Louis flicked his eyes away.

 

"Is that how you feel, Louis? Like I'm forcing you?"

 

He sounded so worried, Louis had to look at him to appease his distress.

 

"No, Harry- no, you're not forcing me."

 

"Then...?" Harry pinched the material laid tightly against Louis' thigh, cotton trunks over clingy briefs.

 

"Fucking hell," Louis sighed with an eye roll rubbing a hand over his face.

 

He felt Harry plucking at the material and shifted his legs.

 

"You just make me so fucking hard, alright? And I was trying to keep a bit of control because I know you're a minx and -"

 

Harry's fingers froze in a pinch.

 

"I'm not being very fair on you, am I?"

 

Louis brushed his knuckles against Harry's cheek.

 

"You're so beautiful. It's taking a lot for me not to give into it."

 

"Then stop trying," Harry begged. "Stop being my therapist. You can still stay here and help me but--don't feel like I'm paying you to fuck me, Louis. Because I'm not. I just want to kiss you so badly--I want you so much..."

 

Louis cupped his cheek as Harry lurched forward; connecting their lips in a sucking kiss.

 

It was warm; and kind of surprisingly good considering neither of them had much practice lately. Louis meshed their mouths together, groaning in his throat when Harry kissed back. Harry's arms curled him in and he went willingly, straddling his lap among the hot water bubbling around them.

 

"Want you so much," Harry whispered against his mouth before kissing him again, harder this time, squeezing him tightly around the middle.

 

Louis gasped as their chests brushed, nipples grazing and peaking reactively. It was too late now…he'd fallen down the rabbit hole and he didn't know if he had the strength to climb out.

 

Louis squeezed his thighs to keep himself in place, fingers tangling in Harry’s wet, wild hair.

 

At last. _Fuck it felt so good_. So incredibly good.

 

"Louis," Harry's scratchy voice called him, mouth sucking kisses against his collarbone. The younger man grabbed his hand and pressed it against the thick heat in his shorts. "Will you...?"

 

Louis licked into his mouth and dipped his hand right under his shorts band to wrap around him; stroking him tightly.

 

Harry moaned in his throat and twisted his hips.

 

"Hey, none of that," Louis chided, stroking more slowly and pausing from kissing him to watch Harry's head tilt back in pleasure. He watched his lashes flicker, the way his lips fell open.

 

Harry smiled and huffed out happily.

 

"Finally," he murmured. 

 

Louis kissed down his jaw, pinching his nipple. He pressed loving kisses to his chest above the water and squeezed his plush hip beneath it.

 

Harry curled gentle hands around Louis' ass and squeezed it gently, pushing his hips up to surge into his tight hand.

 

"Is this how you like it, Princess? Nice and slow? Like to savour it?"

 

Harry choked a bit, kicking a foot out.

 

"Like feeling too big for my hand? Like the way the bubbles burst on your skin?"

 

"Louis ..."

 

Harry's fingertips dug into his spine. 

 

"Close already, Princess? Not even started and you're -"

 

Harry pulled him into a kiss by the back of his neck. It was lazy from his lack of concentration; his mind set on where Louis' hand moved quickly up and down him, but the way he gasped into his mouth was highly arousing.

 

"Oh...Lou..."

 

"Like it fast, beautiful? Think you can hold it?"

 

Harry's eyes blinked open, pupils enlarged as he looked at Louis. Louis felt his breath hitch and sealed a kiss against his lips as Harry squirmed.

 

"Gonna come now, baby? C'mon then..."

 

Harry tipped his head back and wrapped his hand around Louis'; dragging them both over his shaft until he gave a quiet whimper that had Louis harder than ever.

 

Watching Harry come for the second time was infinitely better than the first. He saw every vein popping in his forehead from the force of it, the way his throat clicked as he swallowed. He saw the utter disbelief of the pleasure he was feeling and the feral glow in his eyes.

 

"Lou...you," he clutched Louis close as he gasped for breath.

 

"It's okay, Harry, it's -"

 

Harry pressed himself closer, feeling Louis hard against his belly. It didn't take much to trigger him; Louis gasping loudly as he ribboned inside his shorts. 

 

"Fuck, you're so naughty..." He whispered, fingers tightening in Harry's hair.

 

He felt Harry gently bite his collarbone.

 

"At last he gets it..." Harry mused. 

 

Louis sat panting for a moment in his lap. 

 

Harry looked up, swallowing almost vulnerably.

 

"I want to spend the night in the same bed as you," he said.

 

Louis looked down, knowing he shouldn't, knowing that if he did it would change everything. And yet the soft, scared eyes imploring his were impossible to say no to.

 

"Alright," Louis whispered. "Get dry and dressed into your pyjamas.... I’ll meet you in your room..."

 

If Harry had planned anything other than sleeping he didn't comment on it, just carefully helped Louis out of his lap and then accepted Louis' hand to help him stand.

 

"Everything okay?" Louis asked.

 

And he meant his hip but Harry was shaking and looked so damn young again. 

 

Harry nodded and moved slowly towards the house.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

 

If Louis was a selfish man he would have left. He would have packed his bag and walked right out of the mansion; never looking back. If he was selfish, he would have thought about himself over Harry; desperately trying to gather his wits and salvage what little remained of his reputation.

 

Louis had never been selfish.

 

So he shuffled up behind Harry in his big four poster bed and wrapped his arm around him; smelling the chlorine mixed with tropical shampoo scent of his hair as he burrowed his nose there.

 

It was crazy how right it felt; curling up with him and holding him close. It was frightening how hard he might fall because of it.

 

He felt Harry's fingers thread with his; tugging his hand up to lay against his chest; hugging his arm to himself protectively and Louis knew in that moment that he couldn’t leave. Harry meant more than any part of himself; even the part that wanted to self-preserve in the knowledge he could be destroyed when Harry let him go.

 

That part was his heart; beating steady for a man who seemed to mean so much more than Victor and Louis felt ashamed at how easily the actor had swept him into a fake illusion of what love should be. He hated that he wanted with Harry what he'd had with someone else who hadn’t loved him at all and had planned to play the worst kind of trick on him.

 

Would Harry do the same?

 

Louis' heart told him _no_. But his heart had been wrong before.

 

"Go to sleep, Lou," he felt the soft brush of Harry's lips against his knuckles.

 

He closed his eyes and tried to relax.

 

//

 

"Ok one more...come on Harry..."

 

"It fucking hurts!" Harry dropped his leg from a scissor exercise to slam his foot down petulantly but Louis grabbed his ankle to stop the impact.

 

The sudden movement still caused something in Harry's hip to protest.

 

"Ouch..." he rolled to the side and Louis let go.

 

"Okay, ice bath it is," the older man decided, rising from his knelt position.

 

"I'm not fucking doing that again."

 

Louis paused and turned.

 

"It felt like it was ripping didn't it?" Louis guessed.

 

Harry rolled onto his front, hugging against the floor.

 

"If you don't you'll wake up stiff and have to take a step back again..."

 

"Then that's what I'll do," Harry growled, slowly getting himself to his hands and knees with a grimace when he tried to straighten too fast.

 

Louis watched him hobble out of the room. 

 

//

 

"What was that about?"

 

Louis found Harry splayed on his bed.

 

"Nothing."

 

Louis walked in and sat on the edge.

 

"Clearly it was something."

 

"Nothing you need to know about," Harry bit out. 

 

Louis glanced over his shoulder.  _Were they back to that again?_

 

"Alright. At least let me give you a massage so you don't wake up stiff..."

 

Harry gave a rueful laugh; dry and acerbic.

 

"I wake up stiff every fucking day..."

 

Louis looked at him, concerned, as he rounded the bed, reaching for a tin of muscle rub from Harry's bedside table.

 

"Well why didn't you say something?" Louis chided. "We could have dialled back a bit on the exercises and-"

 

"It's not my fucking hip that's stiff, Louis. "

 

Louis paused, tin lid twisted off.

 

Harry glanced at him.

 

"Do you know how long it is since I had sex?"

 

Louis didn't like to count what happened in the hot tub.

 

"I...no I don't," he answered softly.

 

"A year and a half," Harry glared. "And when I finally feel like I'm making some progress and find someone I actually want to have sex _with..._ "

 

He trailed off.

 

"I get a bitch of a twinge."

 

Louis blinked at him. Harry huffed.

 

"I'd love it if you could just fuck me," Harry admitted candidly.

 

Louis stared quietly with a swallow.

 

"You know there are positions you can try, I went through that when I got here..."

 

"Oh, how fucking romantic," Harry flopped his hands by his ears. "How spontaneous and erotic...wait a second, I just need to get in a position where it doesn't feel like my hip is about to set on fire..."

 

Louis pursed his lips.

 

"Will you let me massage you?" He asked again. "Please. I'm worried about undoing your good work..."

 

"Fine," Harry rolled onto his good side and yanked down his trousers band to bare his hip. "You go for it."

 

Louis laid the silver tin on the side and went to the dresser instead.  He fingered through the bottles until he selected a musky massage oil, carrying it back to the bed.

 

The seal wasn't broken.

 

He twisted off the lid and put it on the side. Almond oil based.  Good. Safe for intimate use. _Even better_.

 

He twisted off his t-shirt and tugged down his tracksuit bottoms, something that caught Harry's interest. His eyes roamed Louis' skin quickly; eating him up.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

Louis placed a finger over his own lips.

 

"Shh, now..."

 

Harry stared. 

 

Louis got on the bed and gently tugged down his jeans, the ones he had started to remove. When Harry went to hook his thumbs under his boxers band, Louis gently circled his wrists and pressed them above his head.

 

The action brought Harry's ribs higher; lower back arching as he took in a little gasp of air. 

 

Louis brushed his thumbs over his boxers band and pressed one into his trail of hair.  Harry smiled as Louis got distracted for a moment playing with the strands.

 

"Anytime today would be nice..."

 

Louis leaned over him and kissed him softly.

 

"Shush."

 

Harry bit his lip.

 

Louis' fingers dove under the edge of his t-shirt, tucking it up to his ribs and then higher under his armpits. Harry wriggled, arms still above his head for the easy removal of his shirt. He gripped the headboard once Louis had thrown the t-shirt away.

 

"Is this okay?" The older man asked, squeezing his side.

 

Harry nodded.

 

Louis’ lips were hot, kind of soft and dry unlike the rough wet drag of his tongue. Harry’s nipples hardened embarrassingly fast as he gasped, hand leaving the headboard to touch but Louis caught it and pressed it back there.

 

"I know you're naughty, but try and behave," he teased. 

 

"Tie me then," Harry challenged.

 

Louis shook his head, kissing his belly lovingly.

 

"Not going to do that," he murmured.

 

Harry sighed, shifting his hips impatiently.

 

"Easy tiger, " Louis brushed his burgeoning erection with the backs of his fingers.

 

Harry whimpered in his throat.

 

"I'll get you there, I promise..."

 

The oil was warm and slick.  It glided over his chest and stomach and outwards over his hips. It hurt when Louis started the pressure against his hip and he flinched at the pain. Louis bit into his happy trail, tugging down his boxers with his teeth.

 

Harry groaned and his eyes rolled shut.

 

"Lou..."

 

Louis shuffled closer, curving his hands under his knees.

 

"Open your thighs up, baby."

 

Harry parted them, expecting a flare of pain. As Louis crawled closer he propped Harry's leg against his side.

 

"You can wrap them around me if it's comfortable."

 

It was very comfortable. Harry let his body relax. No pain.

 

He was naked now, eyes intently watching Louis' hard heat press against his boxers but he re-gripped the head board, determined not to cheat. 

 

Louis noticed the movement and touched fingers gently to his fists.

 

"Still comfortable?" He checked and Harry nodded.

 

"Okay those pelvic tilts we practised...wanna try one now?"

 

Harry rolled his eyes but he lifted his hips carefully, licking his lips as Louis kneed a bit closer, taking the weight of Harry’s lower body against his thighs.

 

He leaned over to kiss him, thumb absent-mindedly working his tender joint as their tongues met and twined; flicking against skin and teeth combined.

 

"So beautiful," Louis thumbed his nipple sensuously. "You get called that a lot?"

 

Harry shook his head.

 

"I'm the first, hm?" Louis teased.

 

Harry lifted his hips again. Louis slipped a hand against his lower back.

 

"Enough pelvic lifts now. Let me do the work..."

 

Harry bit back another whimper.

 

Louis poured more oil, splashing it audaciously against his ass. It slid in between his cheeks and Harry tried not to arch himself up again, biting his lip as Louis' fingers slipped; teasing against his crack.

 

"Keen," Louis eyed his now fully hard dick as it swung before his gaze.

 

"Yes," Harry murmured.  "Very."

 

Louis felt a twinge of something. Maybe insecurity. Would Harry be this responsive to any guy who had been his first after his fall? Was it desperation more than attraction fuelling his desire?

 

"Want you, Louis," he promised as though he could hear Louis' thoughts. Maybe he _could_.

 

Louis slid a finger into the fold, circling his hole slowly.  He leaned down to press a kiss to his hip, licking into the sweet oil pooled there. 

 

Harry's breath caught.  His thighs tightened around Louis’ waist.

 

Louis flicked his tongue against Harry's heat, sliding his finger deep when Harry arched with a ragged moan.

 

"Perfect," Louis twisted his finger into him a little.

 

Harry stared at him; swollen lips parted.

 

Louis reached for a small pillow to shove under his back; thumb pressing into his sore hip as he took Harry in his mouth, a second finger also slipping inside.

 

How could it even be sexy? Harry's eyes fluttered open to see; as opposed to shutting out the sensation, watching Louis suck him and finger him and massage him all in one go.

 

Still he was helpless to reciprocate; hands clutched tightly above his head.

 

"Oh," he whined a bit, agitated.

 

"Want to touch?" Louis asked.

 

Harry frowned.  He _did_ want to touch but he also wanted to prove he could do this.

 

He shook his head. "I'm good. I mean...yes I do but...I'll wait."

 

Louis smiled, twisting a third finger inside. Harry choked a bit and pushed back on it, breathless noises stuck in his throat.

 

"You look so pretty right now..."

 

Harry huffed at the cheesy claim. Louis licked his belly, kissing it some more and sucking a mark there.

 

Harry worked himself on his fingers; hip forgotten.

 

"Slowly," Louis murmured, tonguing over the head of his dick. "Want you feel this orgasm everywhere in your body..."

 

Harry made a strangled noise.

 

"Louis, _fuck_..."

 

Louis smirked.

 

"I'm trying," he teased.

 

Harry slowed his hips, feeling the jab of Louis' fingers inside him and the press of his thumb against his hip. He felt his tongue flickering over his nipple to bring him higher; belly kissed between each and every other touch.

 

"Lou," he twisted to try and catch his rim, earning a different angle of Louis' hand that felt perfect; it was incredible what he could do with his hands.

 

He sucked Harry down again; against the side of his cheek which he hollowed and Harry sank so far down on his fingers it felt like Louis was completely surrounding him from all sides.

 

It was surprising how hard he came. It was disorientating how he felt it in every body part just like Louis had said.

 

He trembled a bit afterwards; clutching Louis' wrist to keep his fingers deep inside while he came down from his high. Louis licked his teeth clean of come.

 

"Can I - Can I let go now?"

 

His arms felt weak, muscles seized into place. Louis carefully slid his fingers out of him and wiped them on his boxers, thumbing gently over Harry's wrists as he helped him unclasp the headboard.

 

He stayed there to kiss him, sinking against his body to lick into his mouth.

 

Louis ground his orgasm out against Harry's thigh, biting into his collarbones and panting against his neck.

 

Louis settled by his side after plumping a pillow under his knees to prop his hip up.

 

"Best fucking therapy I've ever had," Harry's fingers idly tousled his hair.

 

Louis grinned with crinkled eyes, rolling over to pull him in.

 

"I hope you put that on my website review..."

 

Harry grinned and twisted to kiss him; teeth clashing together slightly.

 

"You stopped sulking now?" Louis asked.

 

Harry hummed sleepily, hand rubbing down his belly languidly.

 

"I'm gonna just go and-" Louis began.

 

"Stay," Harry tightened his hold on Louis marginally. "Stay with me."

 

Louis sighed out, curling up by his side. 

 

"Okay," he whispered.

 

_Stay with me so I can fall a little bit more..._

 

//

 

Louis couldn't deny his trepidation as he trotted down the main staircase the following morning.

 

Harry hadn’t been in bed when he'd woken. He hadn’t been in the en-suite bathroom or getting changed in his gigantic closet.

 

It made his tummy flip-flop about in panic as to whether Harry had changed his mind. It would just be Louis' luck that just as he was getting on board with the idea of them being together; Harry would take a step back.

 

Maybe he'd decided Louis wasn't what he wanted after all. Maybe his desire had been fleeting.

 

Louis swung the door open to the dining room and braced himself as he walked in.

 

"Finally!" Harry lifted his hands with a frog-like smile gracing his lips.

 

He was eating cereal and Louis wasn’t sure what to make of his exuberance.

 

"Hi."

 

Harry blinked at him bemusedly.

 

"Hi? Is that all I get now? I mean you had your mouth on my dick last night and all I get is _Hi_?"

 

Louis looked behind him to make sure Liam wasn’t within ear-shot.

 

Harry was rising from the table to walk towards him, deliberately tempering his pace. When he reached him, he clutched the side of Louis' t-shirt and failed to control his grin.

 

"Hi," he nosed against Louis' temple, pressing a kiss there and dipping his head to bite his lip suggestively.

 

Louis blinked up at him and quickly pecked his cheek. The action made Harry laugh and turn away.

 

"Alright, we're playing that game are we, Lou?" He asked.

 

"What game?" Louis wondered.

 

"You're a traditional guy, I get it. Want to be wooed..."

 

Louis cleared his throat.

 

"You’re in luck because I'm taking us out for the day." Harry added.

 

Louis frowned and dropped his gaze.

 

"I'm not sure that’s a good idea."

 

"They can’t say anything worse than they already have," the younger man reasoned. "At least let me take you on one date before you decide that I'm too young and rich to be your boy-toy..."

 

Louis took a breath, not sure what he had been expecting from Harry but he was sure it wasn’t _this_.

 

"Okay," Louis allowed. "Maybe we can work in some balance exercises while we're there..."

 

"Maybe we can," Harry grinned at him with a glint in his eye. "Maybe I can work in some kissing, too..."

 

Louis moved stiffly to sit at the table to eat.

 

He might need a whiskey to get him through the day.

 

//

 

Harry was walking along the edge of the pavement on the raised brickwork; one foot placed in front of the other carefully as his curly hair flopped down against his forehead. His tongue curled at the edge of his mouth boyishly and his dimples were beautiful. He had on a black jumper under his wool coat; planets knitted onto the front of it in a pretty pattern.

 

Louis had pulled on his same old clothes with silent reminder that he’d never be at Harry's level; never be wealthy enough to hold equal stakes. It hurt knowing it, even if Harry didn’t seem to care.

 

"Whoops!" Harry dangled in the balance, rocking wildly side to side without placing a foot down in the gutter to steady himself.

 

"Careful," Louis rushed over to slide an arm around his waist.

 

Harry grinned and slung his arm around his shoulders.

 

"Hi, there..."

 

Louis rolled his eyes. So, he was on the charm-offensive today, then.

 

"Hi."

 

"What's your name?" Harry smirked, apparently wanting to role-play.

 

"Louis..."

 

"What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

 

"Trying to rehab a wilful sports star," Louis mused.

 

"You know, this would be so much easier if I had some kind of incentive..."

 

Louis chuckled, shaking his head as he looked away to check nobody in the street was watching them. He was trying to get them somewhere before anyone recognised either of them but Harry was keen to dawdle. He looked incredibly pretty though; smiley and sweet with soft hair and his soft jumper and Louis couldn't for the life of him hurry him on.

 

"Oh really?" Louis enquired lightly.

 

"Hm," Harry nodded, sliding his arm away from Louis' shoulders and tracing his fingers tenderly down the inside of his arm to cup his hand. "Like you know...a  motivation to get to the end."

 

"What about lunch before 3pm?" Louis quipped. "Is that good enough motivation?"

 

"I was thinking something more personal," Harry tipped his head side to side, considering. "Something... _intimate_ maybe?"

 

"I'm not blowing you in public, Harry," Louis smirked.

 

Harry used his hand to help himself balance as he started walking again, sliding Louis peeks under his curled lashes.

 

"I didn't mean that," Harry replied anyway, quietly, like he wasn't sure if Louis was in a bad mood and not up for playing his game.

 

"What did you mean?" Louis ran his thumb down his finger and back up.

 

Harry's smile flickered back into life.

 

"Like a cuddle, maybe? Maybe something with lips?"

 

Louis let out a huff of air through his nose, grinning widely at his partner.

 

"I thought you were shy..."

 

"Why would you think that?"

 

"Because you never leave the house?" Louis remarked.

 

"Only because they used to call me names," he mumbled about the press. "And then it was just easier than being asked all the time when I was coming back..."

 

Louis blinked at him.

 

"It's okay to not go back," he reminded gently, supportively.

 

"I know," Harry shrugged, turning his toes inwards to spin around a little, arms lifting.

 

Louis quickly stepped into it, circling his waist as Harry hugged him around the shoulders, lips pressed into his neck.

 

"I like being close to you." Harry murmured.

 

Louis felt attraction and something else shimmer over him; maybe affection? He still wasn’t quite used to Harry's blunt honesty but he kind of liked it. It took Harry time to open up but Louis always knew where he stood.

 

Louis let out a breath and rubbed his back.

 

"I like being close to you too, but can we talk about this when we get there?"

 

Harry leaned back and pecked him on the lips, quick but soft; eyes sparkling.

 

"Race you?"

 

Louis squeezed his hand and pulled until his arm was taut.

 

"Don't you dare..."

 

Harry grinned; melting into a giggle.

 

"Gotcha!"

 

"C'mon, trouble," Louis gently led him on..


	8. Chapter 8

_ Chapter 8 _

 

"So, where are you taking me?" Harry asked a few steps later.

 

"You'll seen in about thirty seconds," Louis promised.

 

"Considering this was my idea," Harry added pointedly.

 

Louis lifted his brows, smiling pleasantly.

 

"And what a wonderful idea it was," he chimed.

 

Harry pursed his lips and looked around as they came to the end of the road they were walking along; one which had been quite enclosed with a railing running one side and cars parked the other.

 

Now they stepped out into a traffic-free road which was decorated with balloons and brightly coloured awnings; music playing loudly in the background somewhere among the colourful stalls.

 

"Lou?"

 

"Ever been to a street fayre?" Louis asked.

 

Harry turned and blinked at him.

 

Louis smiled.

 

"Well, have you?" He tugged his hand in prompt.

 

"N-no...Louis..."

 

Louis grinned then, the brightest smile Harry had ever seen him wear.

 

"Let's get some candy floss," he crossed the street into the melee; slowing his pace for Harry to keep up.

 

//

 

"I feel sick," Harry stated whilst pinching cotton candy and stuffing it into his mouth.

 

Louis giggled, nibbling a toffee-apple slowly.

 

"You can stop eating it, you know."

 

"Can't." Harry swallowed. "It’s too good."

 

"Weren’t you allowed sugar?" Louis mused.

 

Harry shook his head and Louis' smile faded. He curved a hand around his thigh.

 

"Want to look at some stalls?"

 

Harry smiled and nodded.

 

They didn’t spend long walking, Louis aware of Harry's limits but he found a stall with the old plastic kinder-egg cases and secrets sealed inside them for 5p. He bought three for Harry and watched him open them; the cases tucked in his lap.

 

"Hairclip," Harry popped the pink glittery accessory open and pinned down his fringe. "How do I look?"

 

Louis' eyes flicked over the pretty pin and he tried not to kiss him.

 

"Beautiful."

 

Harry blushed and rolled his eyes, popping open his second case.

 

"Lip gloss!" He grinned, slicking on the dark pink liquid and immediately licking his lips. "Strawberry," he added with a brow arch.

 

Louis made a silent note to purchase some strawberry lube when he got his hands on his meagre savings.

 

"Oh!" Harry lifted up a plastic ring from the third pod, biting his lip as he slid it on to his little finger. It was also pink with a purple flower on it. Louis had no idea how someone with millions could find such a cheap plastic toy so awe-worthy. "If you wanted to propose you didn’t have to be shy..."

 

Louis smirked.

 

"I won’t be," he said and it sounded like a promise. It made Harry stare at him intently with a furrow between his brows.

 

"Are you scared of heights?" Louis checked.

 

Harry shook his head, gazing at his now-ringed finger.

 

"Fancy the Ferris wheel?"

 

Harry looked to where Louis was pointing and smiled, following him across the road to get in the queue.

 

//

 

"Love being up high..."

 

"That surprises me," Louis commented, sliding an arm around Harry's waist.

 

Harry tucked himself a bit closer into his side.

 

"Why?"

 

"You like the ice," Louis explained. "You’re grounded, too."

 

Harry shook his head, olive eyes reflecting the white-fluffy clouded sky.

 

"Like flying."

 

"Noted," Louis smiled at him knowingly.

 

"Saved for psycho-analysing me later?" Harry teased.

 

"Pretty sure I know enough," Louis said.

 

Harry's hand rested on his thigh, flexing against it.

 

"Pretty sure I want to kiss you..."

 

Louis twisted and let the kiss happen, Harry's hand cupping his jaw to tilt him into the right position for their lips to mesh. It felt sweeter when his lips were cold and tasted of candy- from the candy floss or the lip gloss, Louis wasn’t sure. It felt incredible because it wasn't the first time they'd kissed anymore. But they were still new to each other, testing and curious but something more solid settled in their movements; something more secure.

 

Harry's hand dipped between his legs; heel of his palm brushing his jeans fly as his fingers slipped down; curving around his inseam. Louis groaned and shifted closer, cupping Harry's face and sliding his hand into his jacket to tug at his jumper.

 

Louis soon found a way into the soft knit top; fingers sliding down his spine and settling at the back of his jeans band while Harry twisted to get closer. He whimpered and it was out of pain, not passion and Louis knew it right away; breaking their kiss with eyes wide with worry.

 

"You okay?" He panted.

 

Harry nodded with a twist of his lips.

 

"Think we better take this somewhere less public," Louis murmured, sucking one more kiss from Harry's swollen, less-sticky lips.

 

"I suppose..."

 

"Can you move?" Louis checked of Harry's twisted position.

 

Harry untangled himself with a pout, huffing a bit as he stretched his legs out.

 

"How much longer until it doesn’t hurt?" He asked.

 

Louis gently took his hand and threaded their fingers together.

 

"I'm not sure."

 

"Weeks? Months?"

 

"Shh," Louis lifted his hand to kiss the back of it. "We're having a nice day."

 

"Nice," Harry parroted dryly beside him as the seats swung heavily as the wheel moved around.

 

Louis helped him get up, supporting him with an arm around his back.

 

"Why don’t I win you something on the hoopla?" Louis suggested. "Cheer you up before we have lunch?"

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

Louis led him to the hoopla stall.

 

//

 

 

Louis took a few tries to win a prize. He let Harry pick his favoured toy from the vast selection hanging around the hoopla hut.

 

He was surprised to find him emerging from the toy pit with a fur hat.

 

It looked to be a kitten’s face with ears and two lengths that hung down the side of the wearer’s face with bobbles hanging off the bottom.

 

"What the fuck is that?" Louis asked plainly.

 

"Spirit hood," Harry replied, seemingly enamoured with his find. "Kitty one."

 

Louis arched his brow as Harry pulled it on; tugging at the bobbles.

 

"Kitten, huh?" Louis asked with a certain roughness to his voice.

 

Harry paused from slicking on his lip gloss.

 

"Is that your kink?"

 

"Always trying to sexualise me," Louis smirked.

 

Harry smirked back.

 

"Then stop being sexy."

 

Louis noticed how Harry avoided putting weight on his injured hip, favouring his left leg.

 

"I think we should head back...have lunch at home?"

 

Harry smiled.

 

"I can pay you know..."

 

Louis flushed.

 

"It's not about the money. I have enough. But you're in pain and we didn't bring the crutches..."

 

Harry blinked, tweaking the cat ear on his new hat.

 

"I'm okay."

 

Louis swallowed.

 

"Then I'm giving you a piggy back..."

 

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. Louis bent over with his hands out to catch his legs. Harry knew better than to try and argue. He hopped up, thighs gripped tightly in Louis' hands.

 

"Does it hurt?" Louis checked. 

 

Harry curled against him, nuzzling his hair.

 

"M'okay," he mumbled again.

 

Louis started toward the little French cafe he'd picked out for their meal.

 

//

 

Harry had some hope that if he could get his legs around Louis' waist to be carried; and similarly, to take his fingers like had the night before, then he could in fact have sex just like he wanted.

 

They walked home slowly after lunch, comfortable in their silence with their hands held. 

 

Louis made him elevate his legs after, packing ice on his hip and suggesting a hot tub, too. Harry's eyes had lit up at the suggestion, flat on the bed in his kitty hat.

 

"No, not that kind of hot tub," Louis told him.

 

Harry ached after the hot dip, yawning tiredly and wandering up to his room. He paused outside it, wondering if Louis was already asleep. Maybe he wanted some space after spending the whole day together?

 

Harry couldn't help but feel short changed. He hadn't even gotten a goodnight kiss

 

He let himself into his room with a sigh, lounge pants and tee loose on his slim body.

 

A sound from behind him startled him and he turned to see what caused it, blinking at the vision of Louis fast asleep on his back; snoring slightly and wearing Harry's planet patterned jumper over his boxers.

 

His legs must be cold, Harry thought as he moved with slow precision toward the bed to cover him over. He brushed his soft fringe away from his face.

 

"Sweet dreams, Lou."

 

//

 

"Now the hard work starts..."

 

Harry glanced at Louis, rubbing his palms down the front of his sweatpants, slightly nervous.

 

"Be gentle with me..."

 

Louis smiled.

 

"Have I let you down before?"

 

Harry swallowed with a shake of his head.  Louis was one of the most dependable people in his life.

 

"I've scheduled in a few different sessions, an hour for each activity...I'll supervise the gym programme but for the yoga, Pilates, and drills I'm bringing in the best. "

 

Harry nodded his approval.

 

"Then what will you do?" He wondered.

 

"I'm going to start looking for work," he said quietly. "So that I can save for my own place again."

 

"Louis, I can afford to take care of you."

 

"Don't want the press calling me a gold digger on top of everything else," he lifted his chin defiantly. 

 

"I don't care about that," Harry emphasised. "I like having you here to help me. I'm going to need you when I decide I'm ready to try my skates on again..."

 

"I'll still be here to support you. For _free_ ," Louis added. "But I need my own career too."

 

Harry sighed reluctantly, understanding the need for his own identity. He wished he could help Louis in finding it.

 

"Alright. Show me the routine," he said to distract himself from the strange feeling expanding across his chest. He hadn't even lifted the weight bar yet so he couldn't blame that. 

 

Maybe it was just his heart aching already at the thought of Louis not being there. 

 

//

 

Harry pulled himself up from the bench into a sit up, knees weighed down by Louis' hands. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was sweating; t-shirt tossed aside long ago to cool his overheated body.

 

Louis' eyes flicked there as Harry caught his breath; his butterfly tattoo flapping its wings with each pull of air.

 

He slid his knees apart and curled a hand around Louis’ upper arm to guide him between his legs.

 

"I know a great form of cardio we could be trying right now."

 

Louis kissed him; while he was still warm and tacky with drying sweat. Harry liked the way Louis kissed him as though there was nothing more important in that moment.

 

"Think you've earned a pleasure for the pain..."

 

Harry grinned, readying himself to get up.

 

"Cool down first," Louis chided. 

 

Harry looked on the verge of a sulk. 

 

"Five minutes," Louis instructed gently.

 

Harry began his cool down routine.

 

//

 

His kisses were-

 

His kisses were addictive. He had soft lips and strong arms and it was distracting how turned on Louis could get from _just_ kissing him.

 

He wanted this as much as Harry did, hands free to roam his bared chest as water sliced down on them in their shared shower.

 

"You're too pretty," Harry told him and he'd never heard Harry call him that before.  _Pretty_. 

 

He manhandled Harry to press his back into the shower wall; hands taking the impact as he slid a thigh between his and grazed it temptingly through the gap.

 

Harry gasped and bucked; riding his thigh almost.

 

"Getting practice in for those pelvic lifts?" Louis murmured as his fingers clutched into too-long hair to grasp at its soft wetness.

 

Harry laughed but it was breathless and weak. 

 

"Thought I'd finished working out for the day?"

 

"Time to _make out_ now _,"_ Louis grinned _,_ wrapping his arms around his middle.

 

Harry tipped his head, water forging a path through his tangled hair onto his slanted cheek and coursing down in a dribbling waterfall from his chin, droplets falling rhythmically from his full bottom lip.

 

Louis let the water splatter over his eyelid as he leaned in to kiss him some more, unable to stop.

 

"Fuck me, Lou," Harry begged in a deep pitched voice when they broke away. 

 

Louis' breath caught, impassioned blue gaze locking with enlarged pupils ringed with green.

 

Louis' palm flattened on his back, stroking there gently.

 

"I won't hurt you."

 

"I know," Harry said. "You told me all the good positions..."

 

Louis smirked and rolled his eyes. 

 

"Let's work out the details in bed..."

 

//

 

Louis whined into his neck; hard dick sliding over his good hip as he choked away a very real need to come. Harry’s delicate leaf tattoos were stretched out beautifully and he thumbed at his other hip almost in silent check as to the status of his injury.

 

Harry had taken three of his fingers and a bright pink dildo and he was begging for more.

 

"How do you want me, beautiful?"

 

Harry sank his teeth into Louis' collarbone as Louis lifted his head.

 

"Inside me, please..."

 

Louis bit his lip.

 

"You'll have to roll over."

 

Harry sighed, unlocking his legs from around Louis' waist.

 

"Why can't we just do it like this," he muttered, twisting to turn over.

 

"Because stretching the muscle out by opening your thighs wide is one thing...having the muscle knocked when I thrust? Not a great idea... "

 

"And here we go with the sexy talk again," Harry derided. "Such epic foreplay..."

 

Louis' fingers sliding back into him to scissor outwards however; _was_ kind of epic. He squirmed with a weak moan.

 

He heard Louis unfoil a condom; sensed him slicking himself up. He was flat to the bed with one pillow supporting under his belly as Louis shuffled over him a little, tapping his ass cheek with his dick.

 

"Ready, angel?"

 

"That's a new o-one," Harry gasped on the last word, Louis sliding fingers into him _again._

 

"You prefer kitten?" Louis clutched at the back of his hair in a gentle swirl.

 

"I'd prefer to be fucked before daybreak," he muttered and it wasn't romantic but Louis chuckled and the next thing Harry knew, Louis was leading the way for his dick with the two fingers still opening him inside.

 

It stretched his rim tight; Louis easing only slightly in with his fingers as runners for his slick heat.

 

"Cat got your tongue?"

 

Louis slid his fingers away and sank right in; no opposition from Harry's body.

 

It was an acute angle; a tight fit. But the way Louis prepped him left him breathless and unable to speak. 

 

He swallowed a little nervously; realising his vulnerable position only now that he was in it. He felt Louis' hands cup his sides, kneading at his unwanted flesh.

 

"I'll be gentle," Louis whispered in a strained voice. "Promise. "

 

 _You always are;_ Harry answered with his mind. 

 

Louis was incredibly gentle. But there was something indescribably intimate about how he draped himself over Harry's back to surge into him hot and deep; the drag as he eased out bittersweet. 

 

Harry wanted him to stay inside; burning him from the inside out. He wanted Louis to release inside him one day... maybe when they'd done this a few times and got the hang of it.

 

Harry kept his legs together, hands curled under his chest until Louis drew them out, stretching him to his full length and clasping his fingers through Harry's as he held them over his head.

 

Louis straddled his hips then too, thrusts becoming harder and infinitely needy.

 

"Can't believe how good you feel..."

 

Louis couldn't remember what it was like fucking anyone else; all his memories were lost to that moment, the feeling of utter devotion. He was handing everything he owned to Harry in the sharp cries falling from his lips and the gentle shunt of his hips to fill him and he might not own much at all but it was all laid bare as he climbed a hill towards a pinnacle that wasn't that hard to reach.

 

"Need my hand, kitten?" Louis rasped in his ear.

 

Harry shook his head. He just needed him deep; like this, for a little bit longer with perhaps a little more-

 

Louis changed angle, shuffling up to sink right down; making Harry feel like he was about to burst. The pleasure was like nothing he'd ever felt before and it had been too long anyway.

 

One of Louis' hands unclasped his and dragged lower; burrowing between his hot skin and the covers to cup his belly.

 

Louis fingered into his hair trail with a claiming dig of his fingertips, his lips pressing kisses into Harry's back between his shoulder blades.

 

It was that and not the rough drag of cotton against his shaft that made him come.

 

Louis triggered when Harry groaned; inexplicably pleasured by his own release and Louis' touch.

 

Harry struggled to catch his breath, arching slightly at the feel of Louis still within him.

 

"That should be illegal," Harry's voice was broken with husk and deeper than ever. "You need to come with a health warning...."

 

Louis laughed breathily as he eased out, fingers pressing carefully against his rim so as not to hurt him.

 

"Wow. "

 

Harry dimpled; face turning to the side as Louis rolled onto his back. 

 

"Really? I scored a _Wow_? What's the scale?"

 

"From "so-so" to "will you marry me"," Louis teased. 

 

"You'd tell me I was so-so?" Harry pushed onto his side with a barely-there grimace. 

 

Louis shifted to wrap his arms around him; pulling him towards his body to take the pressure off his hip.

 

"I'd probably say it was lovely," he grinned into Harry's sex-soft face.

 

His skin was shiny with sweat and little bit flushed.  His hair was skewed at angles made by Louis' hands. Louis kissed him; the press of their lips lingering on for a moment.

 

"At least I know the code now,” Harry smirked. "Lovely means I need to up my game..."

 

"Can't always be good, can it?" Louis mused. 

 

It hadn't always been good with Victor.

 

"So where does _Wow_ sit on the scale below a marriage proposal?" Harry asked.

 

"Why do you need to know?" Louis pressed his palm against Harry's lower back and slid a knee through his to help support his sore joint.

 

Harry carefully wrapped his arms around Louis' neck. 

 

"Call me curious..."

 

Louis laughed, kissing his cheek right by his dimple.

 

"It's the next one down," Louis murmured as he locked gazes with him. "Only reason I didn't propose is because that would be ridiculous. "

 

Harry smiled harder; arms folding tighter around him.

 

"I'm sticky."

 

"Me too," Louis squeezed him as Harry shivered. "And you're cold..."

 

Harry wriggled to press up closer.

 

"I'm not cold."

 

"Shall I carry you to the shower?" He asked, stroking back Harry's fringe tendrils the same way he had the day Harry had to take ice baths.

 

"Hmm, yes please, slave," Harry mumbled against his neck with a grin. It turned into a cackle when Louis' fingers gently tickled his bare side.

 

Harry looked at him; at those fingers settled on his love handle.

 

"You like my body soft like this don't you?" He asked.

 

Louis swallowed and it felt dry and thick in his throat.

 

"You're very beautiful, Harry..."

 

"But I'm going to change when we start training properly.... I’m going to be lean and muscular with no soft shapes."

 

Louis slid his hand all the way down to cup his bum cheek.

 

"That's ok too."

 

Harry slid his arms away to manoeuvre himself to the edge of the bed; giving out a breathy laugh as Louis bounced off the other side and scampered around it to meet him.

 

"Let me?" Louis asked. 

 

Harry blinked with a swallow. His last relationship had been a year ago with a guy on the British Ice Hockey team who had travelled to Russia while Harry was competing in the European Figure Skating Championships and the team had played the Russian national team in the World Play Off.

 

He couldn't remember being asked for permission the way Louis did. He couldn't remember seeing a soft want in his ex-boyfriend’s eyes to take care of him the way Louis did. 

 

He lifted his arms so that Louis could gather up his long body; bigger and heavier than Louis' own but the smaller man lifted him with ease.

 

Being carried to the bathroom he felt more like a schoolgirl with a crush than a young guy in the arms of a man the press supposed only wanted him for his body.

 

He curled his arms around Louis to keep the other man close. 

 

//

 

"We're going to work on your back," Louis said the next day in the gym.

 

They'd started with gentle strengthening repetitions and the core work would be starting the next day but he wanted to make sure Harry's body was supported for all the work they were about to put it through. 

 

Harry sat on the lat pull-down obediently, knees together and hands rested upon them as he blinked up at him coquettishly. 

 

Louis smiled, fighting back the images of the previous day and the ensuing shower where they'd kissed and come a second time, moaning into each other's mouths.

 

"Yes, Sir," Harry said just to be a brat.

 

"I'm going to support you at first as you pull the bar," he came around behind Harry and felt his way over his spine. 

 

"Would you mind taking your shirt off and standing for a sec?"

 

Louis was frowning slightly as he walked around the equipment.

 

Harry twisted his top off with a smirk over his shoulder that Louis ignored. 

 

"Feet apart...bend forward please, love..."

 

The endearment slipped out and Louis felt his cheeks flame after he said it. Harry rolled his body forward while Louis pressed his thumbs into certain places.

 

"Feel tight here?" He located a tender spot in the middle of his back.

 

"Yeah..."

 

"Ok straighten up...now lean to your right..."

 

Harry repeated the move to his left, Louis sourcing another spot that felt weak.

 

"I'll work on those after," he said, picking up Harry's t-shirt but not dressing him in it. "I want to see the muscle movement while you pull the weights," he added thoughtfully.

 

"Oh yeah?" Harry's eyes blinked as he twisted to purse his lips at Louis. 

 

Louis chucked out a breath.

 

"Come on, stud. Focus."

 

"Kitten in the bedroom, stud in the gym," Harry muttered as he settled, tightening each hand around the bar which hung above him.

 

Louis moved to his side and knelt, hands pressed into his belly and spine.

 

"Okay..." Harry breathed in and out nervously but lifted the moderate weights with ease. 

 

He hadn't lost so much of his conditioning that lifting felt like hard work, but it was clear now that some of his preparation was lacking which meant his body was out of sync. Harry knew his last physio did his job, but he didn't have a patch on Louis and if he started working again he wanted Louis to be the guy that protected him from getting injured again. That was if Louis was willing to brave the press storm that would no doubt follow.

 

His arms bunched, his chest glistened and his shoulders shifted; the subtle muscles in his back rolling and flexing with the steady move of his lifts.

 

"This would be a lot easier if you weren’t beautiful," Louis murmured, getting up to stand behind him.

 

He subtly shifted Harry's shoulders back a bit and straightened his spine. His hands again pressed against the middle of his back.

 

"It feels weak here. I don't know what your routine was before but we need to really focus on this. If you go back training before you're ready you could end up slipping a disc or worse..."

 

Harry nodded, swallowing hard.  The reminder of his fall wasn't a new occurrence, but it still played in his mind in horror-movie-style slow motion.

 

He’d been skating in big, sweeping circles, arms aloft and long legs stretched as he delivered near-perfect moves. The jumps had always been a huge part of his routine, he’d always been pushed to practice them over and over and that night, skating his best routine, he'd powered himself into the Triple Axel with confidence. 

 

Something hadn't been right though. Maybe there was a chip in the ice or his boot hadn't given the way it should have. His knee _had_ given way though and he'd hit the ice with a thud; hard and sharp on his landing.

 

He'd cried at the pain of the muscle tearing.  He’d been stretchered off, chances of winning disappearing with his receding presence. His hand curved around his hip in silent memory; in protective reminder.

 

He’d already achieved so much and he didn't want to rush things. He trusted Louis to get him back into condition whether he decided to go back to the pro circuit or not.

 

"You okay?" Louis rolled up his top to help him dress back into it.

 

Harry stuck his arms and head into the holes, standing up so Louis could unroll the material down his body.

 

"I'm scared I guess," he admitted softly, green eyes clinging to the shorter man.

 

Louis nodded, hands staying at his sides. 

 

"We’ll only do what you feel comfortable with."

 

"I know," Harry managed to quirk one corner of his mouth. "It just hurt so much, you know?" His breath caught. "Even now I can feel the pain of it; the hardness of the ice and how much it stung as I laid on it waiting to be moved..."

 

Louis' face creased as he lifted one hand to cup his cheek.

 

"I know how much it hurts and I know how hard it is to go back...but we don't have to think about any of that right now. I'm getting a beam put into the studio and I thought we could try skateboarding when you're ready to get your balance back," he explained.

 

Harry clasped Louis' hand against his cheek. 

 

"How come you know how much it hurts?"

 

Louis blinked and looked away; a rueful smile flitting over his lips.

 

"How do you do that?" He mused. "Drag all my sordid secrets out?"

 

"Is it sordid?" Harry arched a brow as their hands dropped and brushed together, fingers tangling.

 

Louis gave him a look.

 

"No, it's actually quite a standard story.  I played in the youth teams at pro level football," Louis offered. "And I suffered a medial ligament injury...one that wasn't rehabbed properly and I spent six years trying to get right."

 

Harry frowned, swiping his fingertips over the back of Louis’ hand to circle his wrist, then brushing the inner side softly.

 

"Are you okay now? Did it leave any lasting damage?"

 

Louis winced.

 

"I get pain when I do certain things but mostly it's fine," he shrugged. "It's why I became a therapist. Because I didn't want anyone else to spend years in pain."

 

"That's incredible, Lou," Harry told him with a gulp, eyes wide with wonder and sorrow. "Look what you're doing with your amazing gift."

 

Louis pursed his lips, eyes sparkling mischievously as they flicked up to survey Harry through thick lashes.

 

"Yeah, teaching a bratty rich kid to walk," he smirked.

 

Harry's lips fell open and his brows shot high on his forehead. 

 

"How dare you-"

 

Louis grinned and wrapped him in close to kiss him; teasing his parted lips into the union.  Harry mumbled something against his mouth before he gave in; body softening and lips sucking tenderly against his own.

 

It felt like the best victory, having Harry succumb to him that way. It felt like all his other life achievements meant nothing in comparison.

 

"Are we done being professional?" Harry dimpled.

 

Louis nodded.

 

"Then I'd like to take you for a drive," Harry said, voice deep.

 

"Where to?" Louis asked.

 

"It's a surprise," Harry winked. "Dress warm."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All  
> I'm posting an extra chapter to make up for the lack the last 2 weeks :)  
> By the way a massive thank you to everyone taking time to comment, I love hearing all of your thoughts, you really help me to keep writing!  
> Ang

_ Chapter _

 

Harry pulled his Land Rover into the parking lot of an ice rink that Louis hadn’t visited before.

 

Bracknell wasn't far from London, but other rinks were closer to his old home base.

 

Harry lived in the country in his quiet mansion so apparently this was closer.

 

His gentle fingers turned off the ignition and Harry slumped back in his seat with a sigh, ejecting his seat belt from its lock.

 

"I haven't been able to go inside since the accident."

 

"Is this where you trained?"

 

Harry nodded.

 

"It had cheaper rates than in London. Quieter too. Especially when I started getting a following..."

 

Louis smiled at the mention of the hordes of Harry’s predominantly female fans who followed him around the world. 

 

"Well, you will look like a young girl’s dream," he teased.

 

"I just wanted to be a guy’s dream though," Harry batted back.

 

Louis cleared his throat. 

 

"We don't have to go inside this time."

 

Harry placed his hands back on the steering wheel and caressed the leather with his thumbs as he sucked his lower lip thoughtfully.

 

"Maybe we could get a drink in the bar upstairs?" He suggested.

 

Louis nodded and slid out of the car, automatically walking around to check if Harry needed help getting out.

 

"I'm not that sore, Lou," Harry grinned. "Not from physio at least."

 

Louis glanced at him, at the reference to their sex. Something burned in his tummy at the reminder. He reached out to brush tender fingers over the top of his wrist.

 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

 

Harry shook his head with breathy laughter, face lighting up. People passing through the tunnel leading to the rink looked at him; they couldn't help it because he was naturally alluring.

 

Louis got the door for him and followed him up the stairs; two flights to the top and a long corridor leading to a roomy, almost corporate bar.

 

They ordered whiskey and bar snacks; a selection of crisps tossed between them on a little table for two by the rink.  The windows looked out onto the ice, but the curtains were partly drawn, and Harry sat behind the draped velour, hand shaky as he sipped his drink. His breath was shallow and quick.

 

"How's it looking out there?"

 

Louis snapped his gaze to the man in front of him and away from the ice.

 

"Icy," Louis stated.

 

Harry let out a deep chuckle.

 

"Who'd have thought?"

 

"There’s a few little kids down there and a handful of teenagers..."

 

"Do you want children one day, Louis?"

 

The question was a little left field, but Louis opened some crisps and chomped before answering.

 

"It's what I've always wanted. I grew up part of a big family but we got torn apart when I came out to my parents so I miss being surrounded by little ones."

 

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

 

"I'd love a bunch of children," he mused softly. 

 

"Even as young as you are?" Louis queried. "Don't you want to be out partying and-"

 

He stopped himself from making the suggestion. Thinking about Harry sleeping his way through faceless partners would mean acknowledging that what they had wasn't going to last. It might be true but he wasn’t ready to deal with it just yet.

 

"I like being domestic," Harry told him, holding his gaze. "I like being home."

 

"You also like being looked after," Louis smiled warmly. "Which reminds me…what happened to Liam?"

 

Harry let out a bark of a laugh; surprised at the question. He pressed the back of his hand over his mouth as the barman glanced over. 

 

"I sent him on an extended holiday," Harry shared. "Figured he'd put up with my sorry ass for too long and so I had to compensate him. I want him back, so I can’t have him leaving," he added.

 

"Generous," Louis licked his lips after another sip of whiskey. "Do I get a holiday too?"

 

"Think you get enough perks," Harry murmured, licking into his whiskey glass suggestively.

 

Louis had an image of pouring the drink straight from the bottle into Harry’s belly button and licking it out to the sound of Harry’s pleasure.

 

"Oh, really?" Harry arched a brow knowingly at Louis' stare.

 

"You're pretty surly," Louis rasped when he dropped his gaze from Harry's challenging look. "Think I deserve a weekend getaway at the very least. ."

 

Louis expected Harry to refute his claim but he merely pinched his chin between finger and thumb, pouting his lips thoughtfully.

 

An idea seemed to strike him because he lifted his glass in a silent toast. 

 

"We can have a few days at the cabin in Aspen," he offered. 

 

"We?" Louis licked his teeth. "The whole point is for me to get reprieve from your bad moods, not to endure even more..."

 

Harry's eyes lit up in quiet mirth.

 

"There are four rooms. We can co-exist perfectly peacefully. You don't even have to speak to me if you don't wish to."

 

Louis couldn't help his smile and quickly followed laughter.

 

"You're not so bad. More of a bear than a beast..."

 

Harry tugged something out of his pocket and unfurled it, pulling it onto his head.

 

"More of a kitten," he added pointedly.

 

Louis' eyes went over the spirit hood; assuming Harry had buried it in his designer wardrobe once the novelty of their date had worn off.

 

The fact he had kept and worn it again on another date made him feel warm. His chest expanded happily at the affirmation that Harry enjoyed him and liked his company. He just hoped it was for real this time and not a ruse to get something that Louis couldn't foresee.

 

"A very handsome kitten," Louis added sweetly, finishing his drink.

 

Harry circled the rim of his glass with a fingertip.

 

"Should we go downstairs?"

 

"How do you feel?"

 

Harry nodded, throat wadded.

 

"Afraid."

 

"Too afraid?" Louis checked.

 

"No," Harry replied. "Not with you."

 

Louis stood up, aching to take his hand but unsure if he should. The people there probably knew Harry quite well but that wouldn’t stop them from selling the scandal to the press.

 

Harry alleviated his inner war and threaded their fingers together.

 

"Ok. Lead the way."

 

Louis got them hot chocolate from the canteen which edged the ice. Harry lingered close, hand ghosting around Louis’ middle as they queued and gripping into the back of his coat when his name was called.

 

A motherly looking woman bee-lined from behind the counter.

 

"Barbara!" Harry grinned and all his previous tension vanished as he bear-hugged the older woman, placing a doting kiss on her cheek. "Hiiii. "

 

"Where have you been, my boy?" Barbara scolded. "We've missed seeing you around."

 

"Been hiding," Harry admitted softly.

 

Louis pressed a hand to his lower back supportively. Barbara turned towards him.

 

"And who's this hunk?" She wondered.

 

Louis choked at the title, smiling at her bemusedly.

 

"This is my boyfriend, Louis," Harry introduced him smoothly.  "He's been looking after me."

 

"Doing a good job by the look of it," Barbara winked as Louis shook her hand. "He looks like he's actually eating now."

 

Louis smiled at Harry and looked back to Barbara.

 

"Doing my best," he promised.

 

He was doing his best to _breathe_. He’d expected Harry to introduce him as his therapist or at a stretch, his friend. Barbara clearly was very dear to him for him to feel comfortable enough to share the nature of their relationship. _Boyfriends_. Louis gulped.

 

"We're just going to walk around for a bit and then we're going," Harry was saying to Barbara. 

 

"Come again soon won't you?" She asked as she hugged him again for longer this time. "And bring your lovely young man."

 

Harry dimpled as he smiled shyly, the apples of his cheeks pink as he rolled his eyes.

 

"Alright Barb, I will..."

 

Barbara glanced at Louis, patting his chest.

 

"Good job, love. Good job. "

 

Louis looked to Harry confusedly and he just shook his head with a sparkly eyed smile tugging at his mouth.

 

"Shall we?" He suggested, gesturing to the door.

 

The ice was wet in places and seemed to have trouble freezing over.  Louis walked down the two steps by the rink-side seats to saunter along in front of the empty chairs; eyes assessing the oval. There were chips and gouges across the surface.

 

"You can't train here anymore," he said, turning to look for Harry behind him.

 

He was four feet away, huddled up by two arcade machines pushed into the corner. He moved toward him and didn't think twice before sliding his arms around his middle to hold him tight.

 

He didn't have the courage to look into his face but he knew Harry would be pale and wide eyed. He shouldn't have left him while he looked at the ice. He should have held his hand.

 

Harry's arms curled around his shoulders; hands clasping at the back of his jacket until he found the soft sheep's fur of the lining in his collar. His fingers sank into the back of Louis' hair as he dragged in a shuddery breath through his mouth and then let it out. He breathed in Louis' smell in the next intake; leaning into him and lending more weight against the shorter man.

 

"Hey it's ok...I'm here. I'm sorry I wandered off. I'm sorry, love."

 

Harry's breathing calmed to the rhythm Louis' palm was creating as it circled against his back. He shifted a few moments later. 

 

"Can we go?" He asked quietly; cheeks burned with shame.

 

"Absolutely," Louis stepped back and took his hand this time to lead him out.

 

He didn't care who saw.

 

//

 

"Hey, man, how are you?" Louis locked Zayn Malik into a tight hug which the other man reciprocated. 

 

"Thought you'd disappeared," Zayn said as they pulled apart in the foyer of the house. "Sweet place."

 

"Not mine," Louis pointed out.

 

Zayn smiled.

 

"So, you recced me to your new guy..."

 

Louis smiled back.

 

"I can do the basics but we're working on building a solid core...I can give you the rehab summary in the library..."

 

Zayn nodded and after a twitch of his lips he gathered Louis close again.

 

"Missed having you around, man."

 

Louis relaxed into the hug.

 

"Yeah, well. We both know why..."

 

"Yeah Victor had an ulterior motive to use you to paint himself as a victim just so the public wouldn’t find out about his drug addiction, I know _exactly_ -"

 

He paused, dark eyes flitting over Louis' shoulder as he pulled away.

 

"Hi," Zayn called to the tall guy in sports shorts and a white t-shirt.

 

"Hi," Harry said back while Louis turned to check Harry over.

 

"This is Zayn," Louis introduced. "Best yoga teacher in the country. ."

 

Zayn rolled his eyes as he moved to shake Harry's hand. His eyes focused on Harry's face more closely when Harry squeezed his hand a little too tight.

 

"I'm Harry."

 

"So I hear," Zayn flicked a rueful smirk back to Louis. "Hope I can help, at least..."

 

"We're just going to go through your rehab file quickly," Louis moved towards the pair, sensing a strange atmosphere as their eyes met and clung in a stare.

 

"Alright," Harry swallowed and moved aside.  "I'll let you get on. I'll be in the studio when you're ready. "

 

"Not too much," Louis told him gently. "Just a gentle warm up okay?"

 

Harry stared.

 

"Sure, Lou."

 

The nickname itself wasn't a giveaway. Everyone that Louis knew for more than a week ended up calling him _Lou_. It was the way Harry said it, low and almost throaty, like a growling little claim.

 

Louis moved through the house to lead Zayn to the library.

 

"So, you're fucking him then?" Zayn asked starkly once Louis had closed the heavy wooden door.

 

He turned to meet his friend's accusing gaze. He wanted to deny that what he and Harry were doing was _just_ fucking.

 

He swallowed.

 

"I know it looks like history repeating itself but he's nothing like Victor."

 

Zayn nodded slowly; dark eyes intent on Louis as he moved into the room.

 

"Louis..."

 

Louis sighed, shoulders drooping.

 

"It's different this time Zayn. I promise."

 

Zayn nodded slowly, down-turning his lips.

 

"Alright. We’ll I'll see if I agree once I’ve worked with him."

 

Louis turned as he jumped up into the big office chair behind Harry's desk.

 

"Don't be hard on him," Louis begged. "If I've made a mistake again I’d rather not know..."

 

Zayn grinned, leaning forward.

 

"Okay, give me the low down," he asked.

 

//

 

When Louis walked around the pool an hour later to check on the session which should be finishing in the studio; he was surprised to find the pair on the patio, mats dragged out into the sun beside the clear water.

 

Harry was in a standing pose, foot against his knee and hands in a prayer position. Zayn’s hands grasped his waist for support.

 

 _His_ _waist_. Louis gritted his teeth.

 

Harry was smiling, teeth flashing and dimples pooling as he chatted with Zayn.

 

"Hey, bro," Zayn greeted, bringing Harry's attention around to his presence.

 

"Hey."

 

"We’re just finishing," Zayn assured, bowing to Harry as the other man bowed back. "See you next week. Good luck with the drills."

 

Harry nodded and adjusted the scarf he had apparently tied around his head.

 

Zayn walked over to give Louis a one-armed hug.

 

"He's a sweetheart," he murmured in Louis' ear as Louis' eyes shot to Harry, catching him glance away nonchalantly. "Go for it, Tommo," he patted Louis' ass as he passed him completely to walk out with a quick wave above his head. 

 

Louis walked over to where Harry lingered.

 

"Seems to like you," Harry said as Louis approached.

 

Louis frowned.

 

"We went to school together," Louis explained. "Shared a dorm room..."

 

Harry twisted a bit, fingers still fiddling with the pink cotton of his headband.

 

"Share anything else?"

 

Louis blinked.

 

"Clothes sometimes...the odd knee strap or wrist support..."

 

Harry pursed his lips. He cleared his throat and scraped his bare toe across the mat.

 

"I'm talking more along the lines of body fluids." He mumbled.

 

Louis narrowed his eyes. Was Harry _jealous_? Was it even _possible_ for him to feel possessive over Louis?

 

"We had a drunken mutual wank one night," he confessed. "Both decided it wasn't going to happen again..."

 

"Did it?" Harry looked up, green eyes wide with curiosity. 

 

Louis shook his head, coming closer still. He let one hand slide onto Harry's back, near where Zayn had been touching.

 

"It was weird seeing him with his hands on you," Louis shared softly; emoting his own jealousy at watching Harry being touched by another guy, however professional that touch was.

 

Harry lifted gentle fingers to cup Louis' arm, thumb pressing into his bicep.

 

"It's not the same as when you touch me..."

 

Louis looked up with a swallow.

 

"It's not?"

 

Harry shook his head, his other hand cupping Louis' neck so his thumb could tilt his chin upwards at just the right angle. Louis let his lashes swoop down, lips parted.

 

Harry's lips were warm like the sun, a little bit slick and clinging, sucking sweetly at his own.

 

"Oh, Lou," the words were a merely breathy plea, preceding his tongue flicking against Louis' to hook out his words but all Louis could give up was a weak strangled moan trapped in his throat. 

 

He pulled Harry closer and surged upwards to advance the kiss; Harry's fingers pushing into the back of his hair as he deepened his search for words. 

 

Louis gave it all up to him, hand mauling his ass-cheek and fumbling to tug up his t-shirt to stretch his hand across the bare skin of his back.

 

Harry stumbled forward a bit; Louis steadying them as Harry broke the kiss to breathe heavily against his neck.

 

"Meet me upstairs?" Harry begged.

 

Louis took his hand and pressed his palm to the front of his shorts earning a throaty growl from Harry as his fingers curled around his burgeoning heat.

 

"Don't tease me," Louis warned softly.

 

Harry nodded, throat bobbing on a swallow.

 

Louis let go of him and walked slowly away.

 

//

 

"Want to taste you," Harry told him, all laid out bare on the bed.

 

"You can't kneel for that long," Louis told him gently as he walked over to join him, clothes  shed already and hand casually stroking himself.

 

Harry's eyes glued to the action, a mar forming above his brow as his lips pouted. He lifted his head from the pillow.

 

"Climb over me," he suggested, lips twisting a little into a filthy smirk. "Sit on my chest..."

 

Louis crawled onto the bed and shuffled over, knees bracketing Harry's slim hips.

 

"Really, kitten? You want to choke?"

 

Harry watched him with assessing eyes.

 

"You'll look after me."

 

The confidence in his statement twisted in Louis' gut. The trust between them felt solid in that moment; completely unbreakable.

 

Louis slid his way up Harry's body carefully until the taller man had his arms draped over his thighs, hands clasping his ankles.

 

Harry stuck his tongue out audaciously and Louis laughed, eyes crinkling. 

 

"Learned the art of playing it cool, hm?"

 

Harry shrugged with a smile.

 

"Did that for long enough."

 

Louis swallowed, easing the tip of his dick against Harry's chin.

 

"Want to play a bit first?" He checked.

 

Harry shook his head and parted his lips slightly; licking them in anticipation. 

 

Louis let Harry lead the pace. He gently slipped in past his lips, onto his curled tongue and sighed with a hitch of breath when Harry's mouth tightened around him.

 

"Hmm," he started to move slowly, not pushing too far inside. He shifted a bit to press against his cheek and Harry let go of his ankle to grip his base, stroking quick then slow to temper him.

 

It was too good. Harry's mouth was hot and slick and he knew how to hollow his cheeks. His lips were plush and soft; the sweetest cushion to the devilish heat of his mouth.

 

Louis got bolder and dove deeper when Harry moaned for more. It felt like he could disappear inside him and never come out.

 

He felt Harry let go of his other leg; heard the achingly needy sound of skin on skin as Harry jacked himself while Louis fucked his mouth with the kind of slow precision he would never normally hope to possess.

 

The inside of his mouth was hot velvet on his sensitive skin as he gently rocked his hips to fuck himself in the wetness.

 

"Ah!" Louis cried out, thumbs digging into Harry's cheeks to feel himself there; to flush the pale skin of Harry's face.

 

Harry moaned in his throat and Louis wanted to tell him all his dirty secrets; wanted to wrap Harry up and never let go.

 

"So fucking beautiful, Angel," Louis whispered, nearing his peak.

 

He looked down when Harry made a panicked noise in his throat; hips lifting underneath him into his own hand. Louis closed his eyes and let out a pleasured sigh; knowing he could let go of the heat coiling in his belly.

 

Harry came; splashing against his ass as Louis slipped down his cheek and bumped his throat; the jerky move triggering his orgasm.

 

Harry gasped and choked a little as he spurted; Louis sliding out quickly to check he could breathe.

 

His eyes were wet and he was a beautiful filthy mess. Louis gently wiped away his stickiness and kissed him deep.

 

Harry moaned into his mouth, wrapping him up.

 

"Sorry, kitten," Louis placed gentle kisses to his jaw, shuffling down his body to lick into the hollow of his throat.

 

"For what?" Harry's voice was rough and deep.

 

"Didn't mean to fuck your throat."

 

Harry gasped as Louis' tongue lathed his nipple.

 

"I liked it," he mumbled. "We should do it again sometime..."

 

Louis sucked a pretty pink bite mark over his belly button.

 

"Feel like more?"

 

Harry hummed.

 

Louis licked over his laurel tattoo on the bad hip and bit gently at his plush skin.

 

"I'll look after you."

 

Harry pulled him in for another kiss knowing he would.

 

//

 

It ached sweetly when he clenched his ass muscles; the slight residual stinging bite where he'd stretched to take Louis.

 

Doing box drills wasn't the best idea after the night they'd had. Louis had been his perfect self, supporting Harry as he'd leaned over the bedroom drawers while Louis fucked him from behind.

 

Harry might have a couple of bruises where his elbow had caught the wood; and on his thigh from a drawer knob.

 

He might have beautiful pink bitten bruises over his shoulders and by his spine. They burned as he sprinted to and fro; his thigh muscles shimmering when he stopped to do jumps.

 

He'd had to get up slowly from his draped position of course. As predicted by Louis it was hard for him to move quickly although he wasn’t in pain.

 

He'd mumbled about how unsexy it was; all grumpy pout until Louis had wrapped his arms around him from behind and kissed his cheek telling him how incredible he felt; how beautiful he looked.

 

He'd turned to kiss Louis for much longer, tumbling them on the bed.

 

And now he gave a glittery grimace at the burn he felt in the places Louis had been. Because the pleasured memories that came with it were enough to outweigh the upheaval of his training.

 

//

 

"Have you ever worked on a beam before?" Louis asked as he led Harry into the studio.

 

A top-range athletics horse was laid about a foot off the ground with wooden stabilisers which allowed adjustment of the beam’s height.

 

“Not really,” Harry shrugged. “I mean, I learned ballet and it’s kind of similar…”

 

Louis nodded.

 

“Right. This will be a real test for your core muscles and perfect to build your balance back. You can feel confident again,” Louis added, knowingly.

 

Harry side-eyed him as he approached the equipment.

 

“Know so much about me, Tomlinson,” he mused.

 

Louis blinked, heart pattering. Had he over-stepped the boundary between professional and personal? Was he making a mistake that he’d worked so very hard not to make when he’d gotten involved with Victor; by not separating their private life from the business relationship they needed to maintain?

 

It had been easy to compartmentalise with Victor because in public he hadn’t given anything away about their involvement and it was only now evident as to why- because he’d wanted Louis to be his dirty little secret.

 

With Harry it was that much harder to draw a line and remember what was what. Because he could feel Harry all over him; in the throb of his lips from where they’d last kissed and the ghost of his last touch on any given part of his body.

 

He looked at Harry as he crouched to feel the surface of the beam, big hand gliding over its surface smoothly. The fact he’d used Louis’ surname meant he felt uneasy somehow, like Louis had pushed a little too far.

 

“It’s natural for anyone with an accident like yours to feel scared,” he said quietly, almost in defence. His chest ached with wanting to take away the pain that caused Harry’s walls to go shooting up.

 

Harry went to launch up and bounced back with a sigh.

 

Louis smirked and hitched him up under the armpits, patting his rump fondly.

 

“C’mon now, stud. You can do better than that…”

 

Harry curled to grin at him; big teeth biting his lip.

 

“Stop with the pet-names, Lou,” he said. “It’s distracting.”

 

Louis toed off his shoes and got up onto the leather covered bar, walking up and down it.

 

“It’ll be just like that scene in Dirty Dancing,” Harry decided, flicking off his own trainers to climb up.

 

Louis hastened to help him, tugging him the small distance despite the fact Harry could manage it easily on his own.

 

They stood facing, hands held.

 

“You can start by just walking up and down,” Louis focused on the task at hand. “And then work in some of those ballet moves you know.”

 

“Okay,” Harry nodded, looking up and down the length of wood thoughtfully.

 

“I want to teach you how to do hand-stands, too, then work into cartwheels and weight bearing on your arms…”

 

“Oh yeah?” Harry lifted a brow with a curl of his lip. “Got an arm kink?”

 

“Learning to walk on your hands is one of the best things for balance,” Louis corrected.

 

Harry let his lips slide into a smirk.

 

“I think I need a second opinion…”

 

Louis glanced at him, momentarily fearful. His eyes flared and his heart stopped beating. Harry’s glowing eyes and unstoppable smile were signal to his teasing but the younger man seemed to notice Louis’ discomfort.

 

“Hey,” Harry stepped forward, brow furrowing.

 

He slid a hand onto Louis’ back and drew him in towards him gently, cupping his elbow.

 

“I’m teasing,” he said, leaning closer until his lips brushed Louis’ ear. “Baby, I’m joking, okay?”

 

Louis took a reassuring breath and clung to the back of his fitted long sleeve grey sports top.

 

“Okay.”

 

Harry pulled him in tight, lips brushing his hair with an unhappy hum.

 

“I’m not funny,” Harry murmured when Louis’ fists tightened in his shirt.

 

Louis huffed out air, sliding his eyes away to temper his desire to kiss the man in his arms.

 

“Stalling again I see,” he lifted his chin as he stepped back.

 

Harry’s cheek dimpled when he pressed his lips together.

 

“Waiting for instructions, sensei,” he teased.

 

Louis hopped down onto the studio floor.

 

“You can walk up and down,” he said.

 

Harry looked at him, then at the beam before him, shakily putting one foot forward. His body veered side to side unsteadily and Louis moved to clasp gentle hands around his haunches.

 

“Hold my hand?” He suggested.

 

Harry grinned down at him.

 

“These sessions are getting more and more like dates,” he quipped; and it rode so close to Louis’ fears of blurring the lines that he nearly turned and walked away.

 

But Harry’s little shaky breath in and more resolute breath out kept him there, rooted to the spot. He offered his hand and Harry took it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to The Locals, my Twitter pals who helped inspire this!
> 
> Ang

_ Chapter 10 _

 

“What are these anyway?” Louis ran a fingertip over a small brown nub amidst Harry’s ribs, sliding his hand over to touch at another similar protrusion further across but asymmetrically placed.

 

Harry peered down his body where Louis laid low on the bed; lazily overlapping him.

 

“Nipples.” He answered, voice thick and slow like he had trouble remembering how to speak.

 

Louis couldn’t blame him, he felt the same way. His brain was only just re-engaging after a post-beam session jaunt in the hot tub that finished in damp rutting and releasing on Harry’s belly before he fisted Harry off to high-pitched gasps.

 

“What?” His eyes lit up, a breathy, incredulous chuckle leaving his lips.

 

“Nipples,” Harry said again with a little shrug that seemed to take a lot of energy. “I have four.”

 

Louis lifted his brows, lips pursing as he thought about it. He nodded with a thoughtful hum, thumb circling around one small nub curiously.

 

“Are they sensitive?”

 

Harry swallowed, lashes flickering as he blinked at the ceiling, arm casually draped around Louis’ shoulders.

 

“Not really…”

 

Louis leaned up a bit over him, tongue flattening against the nearest one; thumbnail digging gently into the smaller one on the other side.

 

Harry twisted away.

 

“Alright, when you do _that_ ,” he breathed, voice weak and low.

 

Louis smirked, flickering his tongue over his ribs again, scraping his teeth carefully against the tiny bump of darkened skin. Harry let out a breath; sucking in a gasp.

 

“Lou…” He complained in a growl.

 

Louis pressed his lips together and leaned across his body to press a kiss to the tiny nub, pinching it delicately between scissored fingers. He slid his thigh across Harry’s, knee nudging his newly-interested dick.

 

“Don’t feel a thing, huh?” Louis’s eyes sparkled.

 

Harry rolled his eyes as he dimpled, still staring at the ceiling. His lashes fluttered down to his cheeks when Louis thumbed over his extra nipples again; together this time as he crawled to get better leverage. His big nipples peaked expectantly at the tactile game.

 

Louis flicked his eyes there to watch them pucker and harden.

 

“This is a phenomenon,” he marvelled. “Wizardry, even.”

 

Harry gave a breathy chuckle that edged with a whine as his free hand twitched, lifting to press a thumb into one of his hard nubs needily.

 

“Fuck,” he sighed, circling the areola.

 

Louis batted his hand away, earning a wide-eyed look from Harry as he shifted over him to lick there, too; fingertips finding his yet untouched nipple and pinching it sweetly.

 

“Stop it,” Harry begged weakly with a pleasured groan.

 

Louis looked up; checking the signals.

 

Harry’s head was tipped back, spine arched to push his chest upwards and his breath was catching; quickening and becoming patchy with desire.

 

When Harry tried to reach up to touch himself again, Louis elbowed away his fingers and worked on flickering his tongue against the puckered skin; guiding Harry’s hand down to his own dick to wrap it there instead.

 

“Slowly,” he told him, reaching up to lick a hot kiss into his mouth before returning to his chest; spoilt for choice between his four new playthings.

 

Harry’s other hand curled around his neck; fingers flicking messily into the back of his hair and Louis bit and kissed against his sensitive skin to push him towards another high.

 

He dipped low to kiss his tummy; earning an incredulous cry; fingers ghosting over Harry’s plush hips while he licked into his belly button and pressed loving kisses to the soft hair arrowing beneath.

 

Harry’s nipples stiffened with the lack of attention, cold in their dampness from his drying saliva and Louis took great satisfaction in warming them up again; slowly pushing the tip of his tongue hard against the nub.

 

It sprang off the edge of his tongue, catching his bottom teeth and Harry groaned again, writhing while his hand worked slowly over himself.

 

“Good,” Louis breathed; surprised he’d kept his word. “Slower.”

 

Harry’s eyes flickered open, lips parted in surprise.

 

Louis moved over him to kiss his mouth, tongue lathing Harry’s this time and lips pressing sweet love into his plush ones. He couldn’t say what he wanted to say in here, Harry might not want to hear it. But his mouth spoke the language of what his heart felt and it was enough.

 

Harry’s hand cupped the back of his head to pull him into the kiss and onto his body; Louis carefully avoiding placing unnecessary pressure on his hip. He found a place to rut; his favourite place against the laurels but he tempered himself while Harry got himself to his high in the slowest climb possible.

 

Louis made sure to be touching him; hand against his belly; thumb pressed into his ribs and lips sucking kisses against his collarbones and over his pectorals right before he tongued over his nipples again, one by one.

 

Louis dragged it slow and rough first over one and then the other; jaw aching with the tension. He grinned into it as he heard Harry’s breathy ‘ah!’ of lost control; his hand quickening instinctively until Louis wrapped his over it to slow it back down.

 

Harry whined and Louis looked into his eyes as Harry begged him desperately with silent words to let him come. Louis stared at him, moving their hands together and clutching into Harry’s soft hair as he watched, lips parted while Harry stared back.

 

His plush lips were bright red and his eyes were nearly black but Louis needed to see the second his orgasm hit because making him wait for it was something he had to witness when the sweet pleasure finally rippled through him.

 

He ducked to suck a kiss against Harry’s jaw; then his throat; finally and audaciously biting a kiss over his sensitive areola.

 

Harry let out a weak choke and spurted over both of their hands and his own body; pleasure riding on for long moments as Louis stroked him through the pinnacle.

 

“Good?” Louis mumbled against his throat, pressing kisses to his jaw as Harry went soft underneath him. “Was that good, love?”

 

Harry fought to make his arms work; wrapping Louis up against him and breathing fast into his hair.

 

“Did you come?”

 

Louis kissed his chest, kissed his right pectoral lovingly.

 

“Doesn’t matter love…fuck, you’re so beautiful…”

 

Harry shifted and Louis squirmed, the painful tightness of his erection pressed against Harry’s body.

 

“Louis, please,” he combed long fingers through the back of Louis’ hair beggingly.

 

“Shh,” Louis swallowed, kissing under his chin and then sliding up to kiss his lips.

 

It was a longer job than planned, Harry requiring extended moments of tender kisses to settle him; hand tangling into the back of Louis’ hair again. He sagged tiredly, sleepily blinking.

 

“Lou,” his throat bobbed against the roughness in his throat.

 

Louis cuddled him.

 

“Go to sleep, kitten,” Louis told him. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

//

 

 

Harry pinched bits of croissant off and stuffed them in his mouth, chewing with his mouth open as a cocky grin took over his face.

 

Louis had never seen a rich person eat with such bad manners before but since the smile seemed to be aimed at him, he didn't mind all that much.

 

Harry's eyes twinkled like stars were hidden in them and Louis couldn't stop the warmth from blooming over his chest. 

 

He was falling in love.

 

"Louis Tomlinson," Harry said, licking his fingers and thumb.

 

Louis sipped his tea.

 

"Harry Styles," he murmured bemusedly, unsure of this game.

 

"Louis _fucking_ Tomlinson..."

 

Louis watched him, sat back in his seat and widened his thighs. One foot tipped into its outer side and he rested his other atop it. He fiddled with the hem of his jumper.

 

Technically _Harry's_ jumper. An oversized brown thing that he'd insisted Louis borrow for their outing.

 

The way Harry's eyes went over him told him the younger man liked seeing him in his clothes.

 

Harry was wearing dark blue jeans with brown suede boots and a thick cream jumper that probably cost more than Louis' yearly rent.

 

"Is this going somewhere?" Louis reached for his toast.

 

"You little minx."

 

Louis choked.

 

"What?"

 

Harry smirked, eyes glittering. His fingers drummed gently against his inner thigh as he sat straight; practising good posture.

 

"You know very well _what_ ," he accused warmly, reaching for another pastry.

 

Louis met his gaze and held it.

 

"I'm sorry, are you dissatisfied, Mr. Styles? Is a refund required?"

 

Harry barked out a loud laugh, biting his lip as he tossed his food away distractedly.

 

"Think I need a second go to make an informed decision," Harry mumbled lowly with a quirk of his lips.

 

Louis felt his tummy swoop. Making Harry come by paying extra attention to his nipples had been mind-blowing. He wasn't sure he'd survive a second round. 

 

"Give a guy a break," Louis muttered with his own slow grin.

 

Harry caught it and his smile softened in return.

 

"Can we have breakfast together more often?"

 

Louis checked his watch.

 

"It's 3pm."

 

"Well someone kept me up half the night," Harry rolled his eyes, swirling his hand pompously. "A tiresome fellow..."

 

Louis pursed his lips.

 

"How awful," he mused. "And what kept you up?" He wondered. 

 

Harry looked at him darkly, lips licked slowly in a way that made Louis' crotch tingle.

 

"Have you eaten enough?"

 

Louis flicked his eyes to his plate.  He still had half his toast to eat. He smirked.

 

"I’ll just finish my toast if that’s ok..."

 

Harry glared at him and fidgeted, fingertips biting into his inner thigh flesh. 

 

"Very well."

 

Louis loved when Harry reverted to his posh dialect; usually when he was being polite or putting on airs and graces. He finished his toast while Harry watched him impatiently.

 

Once he was done they stood up to slide on their coats. Harry grabbed his wrist and gently pulled him toward the door, coat half on.

 

"Are you completely insatiable?" Louis accused as they walked.

 

He unfurled his coat gently along the way as Harry twined their fingers.

 

"I'd just like to kiss you if that’s okay," Harry mumbled as he pulled open the door to let a couple in before exiting. "And maybe fumble about a bit in bed, that's up to you..." he added thoughtfully after.

 

It was as Louis looked up to him with a bright smile that he heard the camera shutter release and it was a second before a flurry of flashes descended upon them, disorientating him in their wake as he blinked away the blinding light.

 

"Hey, back off," he heard Harry growl as he moved in front of him protectively. 

 

Louis ducked behind him and hastened; clinging onto the back of Harry’s coat as he led them to the car parked nearby.

 

The tell-tale patter of feet behind them added a sense of urgency.

 

"Shit, Louis, _run_ ," Harry grasped his hand and tugged him toward the car as the photographers followed and they sprinted the short distance required to roll into the safety of the vehicle, Harry gunning the engine and pulling away with a squeal of the tyres.

 

Louis caught his breath, only one thought in his mind.

 

"Did you pull your hip?" He asked.

 

Harry's brows were furrowed as he focused on finding a route home.

 

"No, it's okay," he assured quietly.

 

Louis swallowed with a nod. More headlines would no doubt follow. More negative press against Harry who didn't deserve it.

 

"Fuck," Harry murmured. 

 

Louis glanced at him.

 

"It's too much isn't it?" He guessed.

 

Any man who dated him would have to withstand a life of scrutiny and a man like Harry who was already in the public eye would only suffer twice as hard.

 

Harry was staring at him while he waited for a red light to change.

 

"It's not you they're following Louis. It's _me_ ," he pointed out.

 

"But if you were out with anyone else they wouldn't care," Louis argued.

 

"Not true," Harry shook his head sharply. "I've been a recluse so they're hungry for a story."

 

Louis reached over the console and squeezed his thigh.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

Harry swallowed and flicked him a sad smile.

 

"I'm the one who's sorry Lou...just think if I wasn't famous you wouldn't have to worry about all of this..."

 

Louis kept looking at him until they pulled up in the driveway in front of the house.

 

"I don't care, you know," he murmured. "About your fame."

 

Harry snorted.

 

"I know that. "

 

Louis leaned over to kiss his cheek. Harry seemed taken off guard by the move, smiling shyly.

 

"Let’s go inside," he suggested.

 

//

 

Louis laid Harry on his back; thick muscled thighs gripping his waist as they panted in unison; both naked and hard.

 

Harry’s hands fell naturally by his ears, a becoming dimpled smile pulling crookedly at his lips. It was half sweet, half filthy and Louis’ belly swirled at the suggestion in the dark glow of his eyes.

 

“Gonna do me like this, Lou?” He asked, biting his lower lip.

 

Louis’ hands curved tenderly around his sides; thumb ghosting his hip which made Harry shudder, head tilting back to expose his throat as he moaned and swallowed.

 

“I promise not to hurt you,” Louis whispered, pressing a hand under Harry’s armpit to reach for the lube on the bedside table, snagging up a foil packet for a condom while he was at it.

 

Harry curled his legs around his waist and hummed when Louis surged to reach; a suggestive smirk breaking into a happy smile.

 

“Finally,” he murmured, hands moving from the bed to reach for Louis’ arms, pressing his thumbs into his biceps as he worked.

 

Louis looked so good, fringe falling into his face slightly; lips parted to suck in much-needed air. His hands quivered a bit with the responsibility of what was about to happen but Harry had no such doubts.

 

“Hey,” he trailed his hand down his arm; brushing his arm-hair gently.

 

Louis was mid-reach for a pillow to tuck into his lower back. He paused and kissed Harry deeply, flicking his tongue into his mouth to reassure him. He was okay. He was more than okay.

 

“Slow and gentle,” Louis muttered to himself, over and over as he lubed up his fingers and slid them quickly between Harry’s ass cheeks; slicking him up.

 

“Oh,” Harry arched a brow and his hips with a quirk of his mouth. “Someone’s in a  hurry…”

 

“No, I’m-“ Louis swallowed, fingertips already nudging at his rim. He pursed his lips and nodded, slowing his touch. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

 

Harry laughed, cheek pressing into the bed as he circled Louis’ forearm with one hand and gripped his bicep with the other.

 

“Lou, fuck, I was kidding,” he murmured in his throaty voice. “I’m the one that left breakfast to fumble in bed, remember?”

 

Louis locked his gaze on the sparkled green of Harry’s, licking his lips and deliberately circling his fingers in a way which meant he could twist them into Harry easily without causing him pain.

 

It was a stretch, with so little warm-up, but it was sweet and tight and Harry seemed surprised by the move.

 

“Y-you,” he panted.

 

Louis smirked.

 

“Try a full sentence, Angel…”

 

“I hate you,” Harry groaned as Louis slid his fingers deeper; pushing against the thick muscle and forcing it to give. Harry felt so hot he could feel the throb of his pulse there. He could feel the way he tightened around his digits; breath catching.

 

He gasped excitedly, like he did right before he came and Louis thought it might be over, already. He leaned down to lick over his hard nipple, willing to assist that release.

 

Harry grasped a tight hand around himself, hissing at the contact.

 

“Fuck, not yet,” he told himself.

 

Louis twisted his fingers and scissored them; enjoying the way Harry’s face went from furrowed concentration to lax bliss; swollen lips parting. His eyes fluttered open, curled lashes flaring as he stared at Louis dumb-founded, almost.

 

“You good?” Louis enquired with an innocent smile.

 

Harry reached underneath himself to grip his wrist.

 

“If you don’t fuck me in the next five seconds…” The threat was empty, with no ultimatum or bite, only the breathy weakness of Harry’s whimper as Louis defied him; twisting another finger into him to stretch him open with three.

 

“Hm, what was that, Princess?” Louis leaned down to sip a kiss from his parted lips. “Can’t hear you…”

 

Louis crooked his fingers and kissed down his jaw; sucking into his neck and against his collar-bones; hand gently working over his side to check his hip; to support his thigh and thumb into his ass-cheek as he twisted digits inside him audaciously.

 

“Lou,” Harry begged on a low whine, pinching Louis’ nipples between finger and thumb and leaning up to kiss him desperately. “Please,” he begged into his mouth.

 

Louis eased his fingers out and made sure to rearrange them enough to settle Harry’s hips back on the pillow properly; re-wrapping his long legs around his waist after kissing over his thighs.

 

When he sank into him it should have felt the same as before. It shouldn’t feel like the first time they’d done this. But it did.

 

Fuck, it was magical.

 

Louis rolled his hips to fill him deeply; no thrust to his move; just gentle, easy slide.

 

“Hmm,” Harry’s throat was thick with desire as he hummed his agreement; eyes fluttering shut. “Baby…”

 

Louis huffed against his chest as he leaned over him; arms wrapped around him to hold him steady as he tempered his pace.

 

“Good enough fumble?” Louis sank into him, holding himself there as Harry clenched slightly around him; belly tightening.

 

“Shut up,” Harry begged throatily.

 

Louis pressed kisses to his chest and sank in deeper; hitching Harry up onto him rather than fucking him into the bed. Harry groaned again; thighs flexing against him as he tightened them; muscles fluttering around Louis where he stretched him deep inside.

 

“Stay,” Harry murmured right before Louis flicked his tongue into his mouth; eating up his pleasured noises.

 

Louis stayed inside him longer; easing out only to earn a gasp or a flutter of his lashes in return. When Harry came; it was from a slow build up; face creasing in reluctant release; almost like he didn’t want to let go.

 

Louis came inside him; stroking his fring gently from his face as he filled his condom and kissed his jaw gently; wanting one day to fill Harry with his seed, instead.

 

“So beautiful,” Louis praised.

 

Harry smiled and blinked open latent; lust-darkened eyes.

 

“Yes, you are,” he murmured back.

 

 

//

 

Two days later Zayn called Louis to meet him and Niall, Louis asking to borrow the car for the trip.

 

Harry pressed the keys into his palm while he curled an arm around him to slip a kiss onto his lips, moaning in his throat when the kiss deepened and threatened to escalate. 

 

"Away with you, wench," Harry patted his bum gently as Louis finally stepped away.

 

"Won't be long," Louis promised as he turned to the door.

 

It was strange driving Harry's car without him and it was a far bigger car than Louis had ever owned but he loved the feel of it; smooth and powerful and he could see why Harry preferred it over a sporty little number.

 

Zayn had named a little quiet bar on the outskirts of town that they used to go to on Sundays when they were hungover and trying to finish coursework while sipping French beer.

 

As soon as he walked in, he got the sense something was very, very wrong.

 

Zayn's face was ashen and Niall looked stricken, arms folded tightly across his body as they both waited for Louis to arrive.

 

Niall was a physio and had met them two thirds into their first year but he was the one out of the pair that Louis had bonded with more closely; the Irish man being his only lifeline after Victor's betrayal.

 

He sat down with a swallow.

 

"What going on?"

 

Niall glanced at him.

 

"We think you should know."

 

Louis laid the keys down and looked at the bar.

 

"Do I need a single or a double?"

 

Zayn pushed a glass of whiskey toward him.

 

"We got you covered..."

 

"Tell me," he begged hoarsely, throat tightening.

 

His heart felt rapid and painful, squeezing beats too hard around his body. He couldn't breathe. He almost didn't want to know. It was about Harry, it had to be otherwise why call him to meet them there and not come to the house? But maybe he could live in denial as to whatever they were about to reveal. Maybe he could stop his heart from shattering.

 

Neither man seemed to want to spill the beans.

 

"Is it...how bad is it?" He whispered, reaching for the drink.

 

Niall licked his lips and flicked Zayn a look.

 

"He's lied about his age, Lou."

 

Louis darted him a look.

 

"What?"

 

"It's in today's papers...he used his connections to obtain a fake ID so he could enter the adult competitions a year early. He was fifteen but the ID said seventeen and-"

 

Louis gulped.

 

"He's not twenty-one," he surmised.

 

Niall bit his lip.

 

"The papers...what they're saying. It's not good, Lou. He's over the age of consent but you know what they're like...They make things out to be something they’re not and it’s stupid, it’s really stupid, but-"

 

He was talking so fast he was getting flustered and Louis clenched his teeth; eyes darkening.

 

"Show me," he bit out.

 

Zayn reached over to cup his knee.

 

"It's probably best you don't-"

 

"Show me!" He barked, causing Zayn to flinch.

 

Zayn hesitated, looking to Niall. Niall nodded with a pale face.

 

Zayn pulled a folded-up tabloid from his bag and unfolded it to place it on the table.

 

**_ Cradle-snatcher!! _ **

 

Louis' face drained of colour and the words went fuzzy. He felt dizzy and sick and he wanted to stab himself in the chest. It might put paid to the arrhythmic beating of his heart.

 

"He set me up," He whispered, seeking Niall's gaze for denial.

 

Niall blinked, nervously wiping above his lip.

 

"Lou, you don't know that...he got the ID when he was _fifteen_ it's not like he knew you then."

 

"But he should have told me before now!" Louis beseeched, knocking back his drink. 

 

"Did you ask him how old he was?" Zayn inserted softly.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

Louis felt sick.

 

 _No,_ he _hadn’t_. He hadn't because it hadn't mattered. It really hadn't crossed his mind, but Harry was _nineteen_.  He might be over the age of consent but-

 

"He knew," he stood up, stomach turning as he swayed uneasily. "He knew when the last article came out accusing me...that if they got hold of this that it would -"

 

Louis snatched up his keys and strode towards the door.

 

"Louis," Niall shot up and after him. "Where are you going?"

 

Louis shook his head, heart ripping out of his chest as his eyes watered angrily from the pain. He should have _known_. He should know better by now!

 

"To get my stuff," he answered darkly. 

 

Niall ran ahead of him in the car park and flattened himself against the car door; arms outstretched.

 

"C'mon don't do this," Niall begged. "Think about It! This isn't even about you!"

 

Louis glared at him, jaw working.

 

"Move or I'll move you," he said, breaths thrashing to cope with the sensation of his rib-cage cracking open. Was that how it had felt with Victor? He didn't recall the blinding pain. He didn't remember feeling like the ground had vanished from underneath his feet.

 

Niall stared back.

 

"He's not like Victor," his friend assured.

 

Louis grasped the front of Niall's jacket and tugged gently just once.

 

"I don't want to hurt you, Nialler," Louis told him in a very soft voice.

 

Deceptively soft considering the lava of mortification bubbling through him. He'd let this happen. He'd allowed Harry to play him like a goddamn fool!

 

Niall inched away, eyeing him nervously.

 

"Then I'm following ya," he said. "So I can take you home with me after."

 

Louis got into the car without protest so Niall ran across the car park for his own vehicle; gesturing Zayn to join him from where the Asian man stood outside the bar smoking.

 

"Get in, he's fucking lost his mind," Niall sighed.

 

//

 

Louis had so many emotions fighting for dominance within him that he almost felt numb when Liam opened the mansion door.

 

"Where is he?" Louis asked, not stepping inside. 

 

The other man had smiled briefly on seeing Louis on the other side of the door but the fact Harry had called him back from his holiday signalled that he knew.

 

He knew that Louis was now being likened to a child molester in the dregs of the press.

 

"Uhm. By the pool," Liam swallowed. "Louis..."

 

"Don't tell him," Louis stated, bolting up the stairs to his room.

 

He dragged his suitcase out of the cupboard and tossed it on the bed, ripping his clothes from the wardrobe and stuffing them into the luggage. His chest felt tight and he couldn't see properly for the hot tears burning his cheeks.

 

"Fuck!" He hissed as he tripped over a pair of jeans that didn't quite make it onto the bed. "Fuck it all to hell!"

 

The knock on the door brought his back rod-straight and he silently cursed Liam as he thrashed the backs of his hands over his eyes.

 

"Don't fucking think about it!" Louis called out, voice betraying him with a distraught whimper. 

 

The door handle turned anyway.

 

"Lou," Harry spoke softly, voice deep and inflected with something like pain, only it couldn't be because why would _Harry_ be hurt? He wasn't the one being painted like a paedophile.

 

"You fucking lied, Harry!" Louis yelled at the barely open door.  "You don't get to fucking come in here and try and stop me!"

 

He heard a sigh. 

 

"Please, Lou," he begged. 

 

Louis shook his head and gave a manic smile to his suitcase; now full and ready to go.

 

"You fucking knew!" He yelled, the rawness of his throat diverting the heart attack he was sure he had been enduring from the moment he'd sat with Niall and Zayn. "You knew and you still fed me to the wolves! After I told you--"

 

Louis felt overwhelmed, hiccupping out his pain to wet sobs. The door opened and Harry strode in, walking across the room until he was pulling Louis against his chest.

 

"I've been living the lie for so long, Louis! I forgot it was even an issue still...why does it matter what they think? I--"

 

Harry gulped, Louis wrenching himself away.

 

"No, you don't," he narrowed his eyes, hands shakily fisted by his sides. "Don't you fucking _dare_ pretend you care," he spat.  

 

Harry's eyes shot to his, horrified.

 

"Lou-"

 

Louis shook his head quickly, sniffling and pushing back his fringe.

 

"You _knew_ ," he said again, voice torn like his heart. "You could have told me."

 

Harry approached slowly, soft yellow jumper clutched in Louis' hand as Louis tentatively braced his forearms; half wanting to fight him and half wanting to hold him.

 

"Why would you-" he hiccupped painfully, fresh hot tears spilling. "Why would you do that?"

 

Harry cupped his face and tilted it back; arm banding around him to trap him into an embrace while he slanted their mouths together and kissed him the kind of way Louis had never been kissed. His tongue mauled Louis’ mouth, lips biting softly at his in silent question as to Louis' forgiveness; begging for his reciprocation.

 

Louis hitched a breath and tore his mouth away, pushing against Harry's chest. Harry didn't let go at first, holding him tightly in his arms, trapped against his body until Louis' eyes widened and he whimpered fearfully.

 

Harry instantly released him with a paling face.

 

"Louis, what did Victor do to you?" He asked then, eyeing his lips.

 

Louis turned his face away and twisted to yank his bag off the bed.

 

He stalked toward the door, pausing when he heard a rough-voiced, exquisitely soft "Lou?" called in the most frightened tone Louis had ever heard.

 

"You didn't have to-" his chest spasmed, voice wobbling.  "You didn't have to lead me on you know,” he accused sorely. 

 

Louis heard his boots clomp against the carpet and he rushed to get the bedroom door fully open, hand scrabbling on the handle.

 

On seeing his fear, Harry froze, lips parted and skin white.

 

"Louis! You have to know that’s not true!” Harry yelled as Louis dragged his case down the landing towards the stairs. "Lou....fuck!" Harry hissed, hastening after him.

 

The case clanked loudly down the marble steps of the grand staircase and Louis' heart flew on seeing Niall at the bottom; Zayn leaning in the doorway apparently chatting to Liam.

 

"What the fuck happened?" Niall stood up straight, eyes going over his tearful friend and then landing accusingly on Harry. 

 

"Louis!" Harry beseeched, thundering down the stairs after him.

 

"Hey," Niall stepped between them and shunted Harry back by the chest. 

 

Harry stared at him, crying now too.

 

"Tell him!" He begged, lifting a hand to gesture to Louis and moving forward to follow him. Niall stopped him from getting there. “Tell him that I’m not pretending!“

 

"Think you better just leave it for now," Niall told him gently. 

 

"Leave-" Harry huffed incredulously. " _Leave it?_ I'm not letting him walk out of here without knowing-"

 

"You should have just told him, mate," Zayn's voice cut across the hall, Louis tucked under his arm.

 

The sight obviously caused Harry physical pain because he winced at seeing it.

 

Harry swallowed, still held back by Niall.

 

"I--" he began weakly, shaking his head.

 

Three heavy huffs later he twisted away to run up the stairs; his explanations not given a chance to be heard.

 

Liam moved into the foyer to follow him.

 

"Please don't go," he begged the trio.

 

Louis twisted out of Zayn's hold and hauled his luggage onto the driveway towards Niall's car.

 

"Guess that's a no," Niall muttered as he followed with a salute to the other man.

 

Liam turned back to look at Zayn.

 

"Hopefully see you around," the Asian man murmured before he too twisted away pulling the front door up behind him with an echoing thud. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am, as always, forever grateful for all of your kind words and observations
> 
> Ang

_ Chapter 11 _

 

Liam was mostly resigned to pacing outside Harry's bedroom door while he cried; only venturing in to check he hadn't hurt himself and to bring him water and snacks.

 

It took a whole day and night of sitting by his door for the other man to call his name. 

 

"Liam?"

 

Liam got himself up and pushed the door open slowly.

 

"Yes, Sir?"

 

Harry let out a wet, derisive sneer.

 

"You can call me Harry, you know."

 

Liam let himself fully inside and moved toward the bed, gently pulling up the covers over Harry's dressed body, letting his fingers brush back his fringe.

 

"Everything's going to be okay, Harry."

 

Harry broke down into more sobs and Liam settled on the bed to rub his back.

 

"I promise you, we'll get Louis back..." he added softly afterwards.

 

//

 

Louis felt sick.

 

He felt sick and he felt drunk. He _was_ drunk. He'd had enough alcohol to start a good-sized bonfire.

 

"Hic!"

 

Niall snorted.

 

"Dunno why I bothered getting you off the stuff..."

 

"Shuttup," Louis slurred. "You're Irish anyway. "

 

Niall flicked him a look.

 

"Were going to have to talk about this one day, you know."

 

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and tried to stop the alcohol protesting to leave his stomach.

 

"Not t'day," he mumbled.

 

Niall reached over to tousle his hair. 

 

"Alright then Tommo. Another day."

 

//

 

Ilene was surprisingly accommodating to finding Louis draped on the sofa; steeped in hard spirits.

 

"He had a fight with Harry," Niall told her quietly. 

 

"Wasn't a fight," Louis piped up drunkenly, front down on the sofa and haphazardly covered in a spare duvet while Niall watched him with a plastic bucket nudged by his knee.

 

"Alright then, the press found out that Harry's nineteen and they're making Lou out to be a pervert," Niall corrected. "Is that better?"

 

"He fucking lied," Louis accused acidly, retching.

 

Niall slid the bucket over towards the sofa with his foot. Louis leaned his upper body over the edge to hug it.

 

Ilene looked between the two men and moved to sit by Louis ' feet. She put a hand out to comfort him.

 

"Honey, all men lie," she mused, lifting a pertinent brow at Niall when he looked offended. "The question is; can you forgive him?"

 

"Nope," Louis popped the 'p' wetly.  

 

Ilene glanced at Niall worriedly.

 

"If it wasn't for what they said about you, would you care?" Niall challenged.

 

Louis retched again only this time he sicked up; vomit landing in the bottom of the bucket.

 

"Best leave him to me, babe," Niall told his girlfriend.

 

//

 

The gym was hard work without Louis. 

 

Liam was overly chipper and peppy and if anything it put Harry in a worse mood. He’d had barely any sleep, tossing and turning in bed as his mind went over and over his argument with Louis.

 

Nothing should matter more than how they felt about each other. He felt guilt spear him at pretending to be older but Louis was only twenty-eight, it wasn't as though a few years made any difference.

 

When they kissed it didn't exactly come up. It wasn't an issue when they fucked either and Harry felt another emotion flood him as he pushed himself to do another weighted squat.

 

_Regret._

 

He regretted not telling Louis how he felt. He’d had a niggling feeling for some time that he couldn't quite pin down until he'd seen the front page of the newspaper that Liam had brought him.

 

Fear had pierced his heart; clutching in his throat thickly while he scanned the words but it didn't really matter what it said, the point was that Louis would be hurt by it and Harry hated the feeling that he was the cause of that hurt.

 

He'd called his lawyer and the maid at the Aspen lodge to get it ready, hoping to whisk Louis away to their own private idyll but the second he'd seen Liam’s face as he walked out onto the patio he knew that no amount of legal action or luxury mountain breaks were going to fix it.

 

The worst of it was; Harry couldn't remember what it was like before Louis. He’d forgotten how lonely breakfast was; he'd been distracted from the pain. He hadn't realised how hard it was doing simple exercises without the lure of kisses as a prize.

 

He missed him already. After two days and two nights he missed him.

 

"You should take a break now," Liam told him and he heard Louis’ voice telling him to cool down.

 

He heard his voice a lot in his dreams too; whether at night with his eyes closed or during the day when he was caught looking into space.

 

Only for the fact that he respected Louis so much and was grateful for his help did Harry force himself to complete his cool down routine.

 

//

 

"Come on Lou it's been four days. The boy won't stop texting..."

 

Louis lounged on the couch in the little comfortable pit he'd built. 

 

"He lied to me Niall. I seem to remember you finding that an emotive subject when it came to Victor."

 

"Because that asshole used you deliberately," Niall sighed.  "Harry's not like that. "

 

"You don't know that," Louis argued.  "Maybe he is. Maybe he's just another asshole who needed sympathy to win back his public image..."

 

"The guy’s a recluse, Louis, I don't think he cares all that much. "

 

Louis reached for the remote and turned the TV on.

 

"He knows where I am," Louis mumbled.

 

"You won't even pick up his calls," Niall snorted. "You think he'll come around knowing it could make things worse?"

 

"You're the one that told him to back off!" Louis reminded.

 

Niall sighed.

 

"Thought he might've hurt you," Niall swallowed, lowering his voice even though there was nobody else at home. "You know...like dickhead did."

 

Victor had hit him twice. Once when he'd taken too much cocaine and had forgotten who Louis was. And once when Louis had talked to another guy at a party.

 

Louis had told him the next day it was either him or the drugs and Victor had chosen the drugs. Victor had also obtained a restraining order and filed false accusations which never came to trial other than in the public's perception.

 

"He didn't hurt me with his fists," Louis mumbled.  "But he still hurt me."

 

"I know," Niall acknowledged.  "But I didn't know that at the time.  Once we got home I knew he hadn't smacked you about."

 

"So now I'm supposed to just forgive him?" Louis arched a brow; teeth clenching. His throat hurt with how much he wanted to say.

 

Niall swallowed.

 

"You could at least hear him out," Niall ventured even though he knew Louis was no longer listening; shutting himself off from the pain.

 

//

 

"Pancakes, sweetie?"

 

Harry slumped at the table and narrowed his eyes at his mother's back. He guessed his Dad must have sent her over after his visit the day before when Des had caught him crying his eyes out; knelt on his yoga mat.

 

His mother had never made him breakfast as a child and was only now learning to cook.

 

"Sure."

 

Anne turned from the stove.

 

"A little gratitude wouldn't be unwelcome, Harold. "

 

"Of course," he swallowed, looking over to bare a fake smile. "Thank you."

 

Anne whisked the batter, watching him thoughtfully as she turned to hug the bowl to her chest. 

 

"It's a boy isn't it."

 

His throat felt tight and sore as his eyes wetted again; causing him to sigh in annoyance.

 

"No," he lied.

 

"I've seen the papers, darling,” Anne scoffed gently. "I thought he was your therapist but I'm getting the feeling I was wrong..."

 

Harry looked at her for a long moment; their gazes locking. For all the privilege and pomp that came with being a Styles; his mother hadn't ever let him down maternally.

 

"It might be a boy," he allowed with a gritty voice.

 

Anne put the bowl down.

 

"Well, are you going to tell me about him then?" She prompted. "His name is Louis Tomlinson, isn't it?"

 

Even hearing Louis' name made him flinch. 

 

He pushed his chair back to trudge towards her, curling her into a hug. He buried his sniffling nose and wet cheek into her shoulder.

 

"His name is Louis and I think I’m in love with him," he sobbed. "And now he's gone."

 

//

 

"Come on now darling, no more tears, " Anne stroked his hair soothingly.

 

Harry was curled over in his sofa seat, hands pressed to his wet, hot face.

 

"I lied to him, Mum. And he's been lied to before.  I'm not sure he can forgive me…"

 

"Then it wasn't meant to be,” Anne counselled.  "You didn't lie to him deliberately and we both know how much you wanted that Gold medal. He'll see reason if he's the man you say he is."

 

Harry looked at her, wet lashes blinking over puffy eyes. The idea that Louis wasn't _meant_ to be with him was painful. Worse than hitting the ice and watching his dreams shatter before his eyes.

 

"They might strip your medals darling." Anne added gently of Harry’s deception.

 

Harry nodded with a thick swallow, sitting up a bit.

 

"Yes, they might. "

 

Anne rubbed between his shoulders.

 

"You'll have to start again."

 

Harry winced. He still wasn't sure whether he wanted to go back to the pro circuit. He was still afraid of trying.

 

"I haven’t decided what I’m doing yet,” he mumbled.

 

“Don’t forget your paintings,” Anne nudged him. “My business associates in Spain are interested in commissioning some canvases after I sent them your _Red_ series.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes at the idea of producing more art. He’d stopped painting the day he’d stopped skating and he hadn’t had even the vaguest urge to return to his easel to start again.

 

Until now.

 

“I suppose I could have a dabble since I have nothing better to do with my time,” he managed begrudgingly.

 

Anne rubbed his back with a smile.

 

“That’s my boy.”

 

//

 

The art studio wing was something like a ghost-town; obviously lived in once, evidently well-loved and familiar to those that lived there but now abandoned and almost creepy in its frozen state, mid-thought, almost.

 

His white overall hung on the back of his beautiful wooden seat; the cushion worn and dented from where he’d sat there hour after hour with his brushes. The easel was still set at the perfect angle to catch the sun as it rose in the morning because that’s when Harry often got his inspiration; just as the sun was coming up.

 

The side-table housed his clean but stained palette and an empty jar for his brushes. His paints were lined up; rather haphazardly on the side.

 

Blank canvases were stacked by the entryway; his completed art hanging up around him and resting against cupboards throughout the room. His plants were thriving in there and he smiled to himself.

 

_Liam._

 

He must have been watering them for the last couple of months that Harry had stopped checking in on them.

 

“Liam!” He called for his friend and assistant.

 

Liam appeared in the doorway.

 

“What’s up?” The brown eyed, brown haired man asked.

 

“Thanks for taking care of this place,” he twisted to say, fearing he didn’t appreciate his staff nearly enough.

 

Liam looked bemused.

 

“It’s Maite who cleans up,” he said.

 

“I mean the plants,” Harry wandered toward the elevated section of plant pots; all lined up in their rack and flourishing downwards.

 

Some were hanging from baskets up high; some perched on the sills to get the best light. He didn’t remember moving the cacti to the hot corner of the room but there they stood in a collection; thriving in the heat.

 

“I didn’t touch the plants,” Liam frowned.

 

Harry twisted to look at him again.

 

“What?”

 

Liam’s lashes flicked, and he swallowed; red dotting his cheeks.

 

“Who did then?” Harry wondered.

 

Liam bit his lip.

 

“Oh er…probably just um…”

 

Harry blinked and looked away from his friend; biting his lip as his eyes fell to the floor.

 

 _It was Louis then, who had taken care of the plants_. He’d snuck into the quiet, unused room and ensured that none of Harry’s plant-life had died and –

 

_Why would he have done that?_

 

But Louis seemed to be a natural nurturer; albeit with questionable methods to get his results on occasion but he had obviously wanted to surprise Harry with his little jungle of houseplants and it made Harry feel like his chest had been cut open all over again.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in deep, sharp breaths.

 

He wasn’t going to cry again. He _couldn’t_. He didn’t have anything left in him to give up to the pain.

 

_I think I’m in love with him._

 

His voice echoed back at him from what he’d told his Mum.

 

If only it was true.

 

Because he didn’t _think_ it anymore. He _knew._

And all it took was some fucking plants for him to realise it.

 

//

 

“What’s that you’re wearing?” Niall asked as Louis wandered into the kitchen, adjusting his shirt sleeves.

 

His fitted navy slacks and smart shoes had barely seen the light of day for the last few years but here he was, trying to make a good impression.

 

“A suit,” Louis replied with a wry smirk.

 

“I can see that,” Niall smiled sweetly back. “But what’s it for? Winning Harry back?”

 

Louis’ smile faded. His cool blue gaze fixed on the equally blue gaze of his friend.

 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” he said quietly; but it was terse.

 

Niall pursed his lips and looked away.

 

“I haven’t!” Louis argued at his dismissive look. “Fuck, what do you want from me?”

 

“Well, it’d be nice if you could at least talk to him,” Niall posed. “To hear his side. Then you can decide if you still want out.”

 

“I was never in,” Louis accused bitterly. “He never wanted more than sex, alright?”

 

Niall snorted.

 

“It’s not funny,” Louis countered.

 

“No, it’s fecking not!” Niall agreed jovially. “You’re lying to yourself!” He mused. “After refusing to talk to Harry for lying…I mean, isn’t that a bit hypocritical?”

 

Louis turned to stalk into the living room to pick up the jacket he’d carefully laid over the back of the sofa. He shucked it on, fixing the sleeves and buttoning it up.

 

“You can’t ignore me,” Niall walked in a moment later.

 

Louis looked up.

 

“The way he talked about us,” Louis whispered, tongue darting out to lick his lips, hands shaking slightly. “It wasn’t romantic, Ni. He asked me to _fuck_ him,” he added candidly.

 

Niall watched him for a moment; face clearing of judgement.

 

“Alright Lou, if that’s what you want to tell yourself,” he replied placidly. “You go ahead.”

 

Louis stared as Niall passed him to head out of the front door.

 

 

//

 

“Sir, these are fantastic!” Liam enthused, settling Harry’s wet paintings on the side to dry; rolling down the blinds so that the sun wouldn’t ruin the coloured oils.

 

“Why am I ‘Sir’ again?” Harry huffed, swirling his brush in the turpentine as he studied the conundrum in front of him.

 

The painting was blue; shadows, trees; perhaps an alleyway or side of building with a figure lurking; maybe even a stray cat, but he couldn’t get the blue just right for the lamplight in the midst of the foreground.

 

“Sorry,” Liam wiped his hands on a spare towel balled up on the counter.

 

Harry sighed resignedly and plopped his palette on his little table.

 

“I can’t finish this.”

 

Liam walked over and leaned over his shoulder to look. Harry began to unthread the ties of his smock.

 

“Looks okay to me…”

 

“I can’t find the right blue,” Harry told him with a furrow above his brow.

 

Liam leaned back and arched a brow.

 

“Is that so?”

 

“I’m going to go do my gym stuff,” he decided.

 

“Don’t forget Sine is coming for Pilates later,” Liam reminded. “Louis said not to over-do it in the gym when you have your classes.”

 

“Yes, well,” Harry clipped as he twisted off his cotton cover-up. “Louis isn’t here is he?”

 

//

 

Harry hadn’t seen Niall since the day Louis had left.

 

He had a look on his face that he imagined was like the expression he had when he’d called him all those months ago to go looking for Louis in town.

 

“What the fuck is up with ya?” The Irish man asked as Harry pulled open the front door.

 

He refused to let anyone else answer it in the rare hope it might be Louis.

 

“Don’t tell me to come and see him,” Harry stared accusingly at him. “It’s not fair on me to walk into having my heart broken.”

 

“He doesn’t even know it’s fuckin’ breaking!” Niall gestured with his hands, shoving past Harry into his foyer. “He thinks he was just a fling to ya.”

 

Harry blinked.

 

“H-he…he what?”

 

Niall studied him warily.

 

“If he knew I was here I’d lose me best friend, you know that don’t ya?”

 

Harry bit his lip as the furrow creased between his brows.

 

“You better go then,” he conceded. “Louis needs you.”

 

“He _needs_ to know how you _feel_ ,” Niall lamented. “Other than wanting to fuck his brains out, that is.”

 

Harry stared at him, olive eyes wide and translucent in the sunlight catching in the coloured stained glass above the door.

                                                                                                                                                                 

“He knows,” he said lowly; but even as he spoke he felt uncertainty curl over his skin.

 

 _Did_ Louis know? Had Harry made it obvious enough? Had he not told him his darkest secrets and deepest fears? Wasn’t that _enough_?

 

“Not sure he does, mate,” Niall flicked his eyes over him a few times. “Can’t say you look much better than he does, either.”

 

Harry resolutely refused to meet his gaze.

 

“I think you should go now.”

 

Niall looked at him for another agonising minute but he finally sighed and turned to go.

 

“You’re both fucking idiots,” he muttered as he trudged towards the door.


	12. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12_

 

**_Styles Official Statement! “Sorry doesn’t excuse what I did”._ **

****

**_In light of the recent allegations suggesting my fraudulent application and participation of various NISA Regulated Figure Skating Competitions over the last 6 years, I confirm with deep regret that the charges held against me are in fact a clear representation of events._ **

****

**_By way of explanation, but by no means excusing my actions, I knowingly submitted false information and fraudulent documentation to ensure my qualification into the European Ice Skating Championships a year early._ **

****

**_On reflection, I am ashamed that I allowed my hunger for competing to blur my integrity and permit and even justify betraying the trust of my management, my colleagues and the many professional bodies governing the international sport. I hereby denouce my titles achieved during this shameful period._ **

****

**_I stand here before you all, pleading for your forgiveness. I am appalled at the deep hurt I’ve caused my loved ones and I would like to extend that apology to my loyal fans who deserve far better._ **

****

**_I accept full responsibility for my actions as I await the outcome of the official NISA investigation and the resulting consequences of my delinquency._ **

****

**_On a personal note, I’d like to take this opportunity to deeply apologise to my family and friends who were innocent bystanders in my blind competitive hunger and arrogant behaviour and of course last but not least, convey my deepest regret to my fans, whom I would not be here without._ **

~

**~~~~**

 

Louis laid the paper down and felt his chest swell and throb anxiously at the words printed on the page.

 

Harry hadn’t made a comment on their relationship or Louis’ professionalism, but the press had pictures of them together _for fuck’s sake_ and it didn’t take an idiot to work out that there was something between them that went way beyond professional rapport.

 

The main photograph was a candid shot of Harry.  Louis tried not to stare at the grainy shot but it was hard not to. Harry looked focused; heading for his car in his long black wool coat over a brown shirt with bright blue and red floral velour accents.

 

The cuffs were undone and his hair was pushed back from his face; not the tousled, soft mess Louis had gotten accustomed to. It looked old, the photograph. Maybe like it was taken before Harry’s fall. He looked lonely and even though Harry hadn’t been lonely then; Louis still felt the urge to hold him.

 

That urge was getting stronger every day no matter how hard he tried to tamp it down. It was surging in his heart with every beat and threatened to spill over.

 

Yesterday he’d found himself  en-route to Harry’s house completely by accident; his mind headed off into a direction he hadn’t asked it to go. 

 

Every cell in his body wanted to go back.

 

His head just had to keep reminding his body what happened the last time he trusted a liar.

 

//

 

 

The bar was dark. It wasn’t the kind of place that Harry liked to frequent normally. As much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed the glossy luxury his life afforded him. He liked high class bars and expensive restaurants and he liked dressing for the occasion.

 

Tonight he wore boots and jeans and his lavender jumper. He tugged the sleeves over his hands and curled one against his tummy to stop the fluttering there. It felt like his tattoo had come alive.

 

He’d got the call at five o’clock; right after his Pilates session with Sine had finished.

 

Gregory Smith wanted to talk.

 

Smith was a renowned media mogul; making and breaking various people’s careers depending on what was published and Harry’s PR representative, Stephanie, had called him with the news.

 

Harry looked around the room; tugging at his beanie anxiously. He really didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to be in the same hemisphere as the man who controlled the press, let alone the same _room._

But Stephanie had urged him to go. She’d said if he was up to something then Harry’s snub could cause more bad than good. And so Harry was there, searching out the other man with a bitter dryness in his throat as he swallowed.

 

“Styles,” he heard his name called and twisted to find the source, finding a slightly older man standing from his seat; frame stocky and face lined with stress or age or perhaps both.

 

It was his eyes that made Harry look away once they had shaken hands. They were cold and almost evil-looking.

 

“Thanks for coming,” Smith said.

 

“I didn’t want to,” Harry admitted openly. “And to be frank I have no desire to stay. What is this about?”

 

"I've got a proposition for you," Smith said, puffing on his cigar. 

 

Harry narrowed his eyes, jaw flexing. He didn't tell the man to proceed but the nod of his head was a signal for him to.

 

“I’ll cut to the chase” Smith said “We want Tomlinson. We can paper over your NISA fraud issue if you give us all you can on Tomlinson. Were his grooming tactics obvious from the get-go? Would you say he coerced you into hiring him because he held the threat of exposure of your fraudulent career? Was he aggressive with his kinks? How long into the contractual relationship did he start to put pressure on you? Give me this Styles, and we’ll get you back to “Golden Boy” status with the world’s fans and professional associations again.”

Harry stared at the man and counted to ten to neutralise his desire to hit him. Violence never solved anything but it was addictive with how tempting it was to try anyway.

 

"I think my team have made a mistake," Harry murmured, rising from his seat already. "I’m not interested in your offer."

 

"Oh, come on Styles! We'll find out eventually! Did he groom you? Is he a little charmer with some weird fetishes? Does he fall for every client or just the pretty ones?"

 

Harry paused, turned away; his body stiffening.

 

"I've got his parents’ address here maybe I should go and pay them a visit instead," Smith mused. "I expect they'll be more open to a financial reward..."

 

Harry shook his head and span on his heel, storming back to the table. Louis would kill him for moving so quickly, especially twisting and stomping his feet but he didn't care. He had to get his hands on something and it wasn't in a good way.

 

"You leave his fucking family out of this," Harry growled once he had Smith by the jacket lapels. "And you don't print one word about him, right?"

 

Smith swallowed but nodded.

 

Harry lifted him up slightly and pressed him to the wall.

 

"Not a single fucking word!"

 

"Is that a threat, Mr. Styles?" Smith smiled smugly. 

 

"Call it an incentive," Harry growled. 

 

Smith looked at him for a long moment.

 

"His ex was a lot easier to sweet-talk,” the older man mused.

 

Harry was getting to know quite well what Louis’ ex-boyfriend was like and none of it was good. It made something burn unexpectedly in his chest; something that made him want to protect Louis from every piece of scum on the earth.

 

Louis was a simple man, an angel and a healer and he didn’t deserve to be thrust into the media limelight the way he had been; self-confidence destroyed by the reckless words of one man who was only trusted for the simple fact he appeared on film.

 

The reminder of Victor’s betrayal re-ignited Harry’s anger. He bumped Smith against the wall of the booth one more time.

 

"I suggest you don't cross me." 

 

Smith eyed him, grasping at his wrists desperately.

 

“Grant me an exclusive and I won’t touch Tomlinson,” he bargained.

 

Harry smirked, rolling his eyes as he pushed the man away, stepping back.

 

"If you want an exclusive then I recommend you stay on my good side..."

 

With that he walked away, hands quivering not with anxiety this time, but with rage.

 

//

 

The punch bag had been hung in the cellar. Harry had asked for it after he’d come third in the The Asian Open Figure Skating Championships .

 

Right now, he thumped his gloved fists into it with little regard to anything else around him.

 

It was better than destroying his art studio which had been the alternative option.

 

He’d messaged Louis after leaving the bar, begging him for a chance to talk. Harry could never understand what it felt like to be hung out to dry the way Louis had and he knew he’d hurt him beyond repair but he deserved five minutes to say something. He deserved a chance to say something that mattered; that expressed exactly how he felt.

 

Louis could make his choice then. To go on with his life with or without Harry in it or to- ~~~~

Harry pummeled the leather. _Fuck_.

 

To maybe _forgive_ him.

 

It was going to take a lot. And what did he have? A mansion and not much else. How was he going to convince Louis to come back to him when he didn’t have a single damn thing to offer?

 

He straightened up, resting his forearms against his heaving chest.

 

If he was truly going to win Louis back, he needed help.

 

//

 

“Liam…” Harry strode into the kitchen to find the other man mid-lunch.

 

Liam looked up with a smile.

 

“There you are. Maite made chicken Caesar, you should sit down and have some…”

 

Harry shook his head impatiently, hair damp from his shower.

 

“I need your help,” he said.

 

Liam crunched his mouthful slowly with an unwavering gaze.

 

“Wait, what happened to you?” He asked suspiciously.

 

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. His skin was still warm from his workout.

 

“Did you go running?” Liam asked then, head titling.

 

“No, never mind,” Harry dismissed. “I’m fine, I didn’t over-do it and I cooled down,” he added petulantly.

 

“Right,” Liam frowned. “But somehow you’ve learned to admit when you need help...some kind of session…”

 

“Ha-ha,” Harry pursed his lips and unfolded his arms. “I need to win Louis back.”

 

Liam blinked at him.

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“But I don’t have anything to win him with,” Harry beseeched. “He doesn’t care about my house or my car or what I have in the bank.”

 

Liam licked his lips, pulling out the chair beside him to pat the surface in signal that Harry should sit on it. Harry moved toward the table to fold himself into the seat.

 

He placed his hands in his lap and rubbed his thumb over the insides of his fingers.

 

“Well how did you win him over the first time?” Liam wondered.

 

Harry lifted his face, lips twisting as his brows lifted slightly in suggestion.

 

“Oh,” Liam blushed a bit, flitting his eyes away.

 

“Yeah, oh,” Harry mused. “I’m not exactly top boyfriend material.”

 

Liam bit his lip, reaching over to squeeze Harry’s arm.

 

“Harry…he liked you for _you_ ,” he counselled. “You don’t need any grand schemes to win him back. You just need to tell him how you feel.”

 

Harry didn’t properly understand the concept of being wanted solely for himself. His hockey-player boyfriend had liked his skating prowess. His high-school boyfriend had definitely liked his wealth. It felt like walking a tightrope with Louis. He was so high up with so far to fall and he only had the strength of his personality to rely on. He only had what was in his heart.

 

“I guess you’re right” he sighed, looking at Liam solemnly.

 

Harry felt  insecurity bolt through him. _What if he never won Louis back?_

 

//

 

Niall walked in from work to find Louis slouched on the sofa; beer in one hand and remote in the other; football blaring from the TV.

 

He flicked his eyes up and around the room towards the kitchen to check if Ilene was there but he gave a silent thanks upwards when he couldn’t hear her in the flat.

 

“Tommo, what’s all this?” Niall asked plainly, stripping off his coat. “Thought we’d gotten past this stage…”

 

“Didn’t get the job,” Louis answered.

 

“So what?” Niall moved into the room to perch on the edge of the coffee table. “There’s plenty of jobs out there…”

 

Louis shook his head.

 

“All think I’m scum,” he mumbled drunkenly.

 

“We’ll find you something,” Niall cupped his knee. “Athens are having the Olympic games next year, there’ll be loads of stuff going for that…”

 

Louis sucked from his beer bottle.

 

“Have you heard from Harry?” Niall asked, sensing something unspoken.

 

Louis blinked.

 

“Did you reply?”

 

Louis flicked lazy eyes to him.

 

“Nope.”

 

Niall sighed and slid onto the sofa beside his friend, curling an arm around his shoulders.

 

“You can’t avoid him forever, Louis,” Niall murmured.

 

Louis curled into his cuddle, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to. He wanted to cut out every memory of Harry and every part of his body that tingled when those memories surfaced. He wanted to block the pain that assuaged him every minute of every day when he thought of him; unable to stop his mind from conjuring his pretty image.

 

And Louis was still lying to himself because he didn’t want any of those things at all; not really. What he wanted; what he really, truly wanted was to hold Harry and never let him go.

 

//

 

 

The pommel horse was Harry's favourite equipment in the dance studio.

 

In the days since Louis’ departure, he’d learned to grip the handles and lift himself up; twisting his body and building his upper body strength in a way that would support his lower body exercise.

 

He’d worked his way up to swinging himself across the beam, legs whooshing over the leather base and arms bulging with holding his weight. His back was broader now, his body thicker. His skin looked healthy stretched over the intricate play of muscles that he’d developed.

 

Louis wouldn’t recognise him, almost. In clothes he looked the same but underneath he wasn’t the soft-bodied, almost scrawny man he’d come to know.

 

He remembered asking Louis if he’d still like him like this, lean and conditioned and Louis had promised him he would. Harry’s chest pinched at the memory. He missed him. He missed his gentle motivation and his tender touches. He missed kissing him and flicking their tongues together. He missed being fucked by him; missed releasing in his hand and against his body. He missed Louis like the sea would miss the moon, nothing to connect to and rebound off.

 

His hand faltered; arm quivering with the imbalance and he struggled to get himself upright; back to neutral. Instead he swerved to dive towards the floor; his landings well-practised from several sessions where he’d almost slipped or caught the edge of the beam with his shin or ankle.

 

He knew how to fall without hurting himself. He knew now even better how to pace himself so that he didn’t have to.

 

But for whatever reason; his body didn’t align to his mind and he twisted heavily; one hand clutched around the handle as his body slammed against the side of the horse.

 

He should let go, his hand out of instinct should give up its grip in order to protect him but holding onto the beam was a petty symbol of him holding onto Louis, somehow. Letting go was not an option.

 

His shoulder contorted painfully, excruciating pain shooting through the joint which forced his fingers to release the metal grip. He slid down to the rubber mat with a whine; teeth gritted against the ripping pain.

 

“Li!” He barked; gasping in air.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

He heard Liam’s slow footfall in the hall and he curled up with tears in his eyes.

 

//

 

“Harry’s hurt.”

 

The words circled his mind on repeat; a jabbing little accusation poking at his chest.

 

_Harry’s hurt, Harry’s hurt, Harry’s hurt and it’s your fault._

 

He stared at Niall.

 

“What?”

 

He’d spent the day on the sofa in his sweats, hair messy and eyes circled with shadows from the lack of sleep. He sat up, frown marring his face.

 

Niall licked his lips.

 

“He was working on the beam and he fell.”

 

Louis felt sick. His face washed out.

 

“Please god, no,” he whispered, standing up.

 

He felt shaky, like he might fall himself. Harry wouldn’t survive another set-back. He shouldn’t have to cope with more pain and going back to square one with his recovery.

 

Niall lifted his brows.

 

“You have to go back, Lou.”

 

Louis fastened his gaze on him. He didn’t argue. He just moved to shower and get dressed.

 

//

 

Liam opened the door and enveloped Louis into a warm hug.

 

“Thank god you came…”

 

Louis shivered, too cold despite his warm clothes and his jacket. He hadn’t brought a change of clothes but then he didn’t expect Harry to accommodate him.

 

“Where is he?” Louis asked, pulling away.

 

“In bed,” Liam replied. “Hasn’t moved since the doctor left…”

 

Louis licked his lips, pushing his fingers through his fringe.

 

“How bad is it?” He checked.

 

Liam swallowed and Louis fastened his gaze to his face, sudden fear filling him.

 

“It’s not his hip,” Liam shared quietly.

 

_What?_

 

“It’s his shoulder,” Liam explained. “He’s torn his rotator cuff.”

 

Louis stared at him, horrified.

 

“What did the doctor give him?”

 

“Ibuprofen,” Liam offered. “And they put his arm in a sling.”

 

“He needs a fucking steroid injection,” Louis hissed, eyes widening as he twisted away from Liam to pace the hallway with his frustration.

 

“Have you got any?” Liam asked.

 

Louis looked up, eyes wet with emotions he couldn’t portray. _Harry_. Harry was fucking laying there with another serious injury and they’d given him over-the-counter _pain-killers_. Pain-killers that were used mostly for headaches. Pain killers that would do barely anything to ease the pain.

 

Louis swallowed.

 

“Not on me,” he answered Liam’s question. “I can use my licence to get some.”

 

“Fine, I’ll drive,” Liam moved to fetch the car keys.

 

“You should stay with him,” Louis said as he followed. “Put some ice on it and prop some pillows around him to stop him moving it at all. It’d be better if you could sit him up a bit and-“

 

Liam turned, cupping the keys in his hand.

 

“I’ll take care of him, Louis,” he promised with big brown eyes and Louis paused, face creasing with the knowledge of what he must sound like.

 

He felt sick with concern; his body urging to go and see Harry and comfort him but his medical training reminded him he needed the tools to help him, first.

 

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Louis took the keys and hugged Liam again quickly.

 

//

 

His rotator cuff?

 

Louis tried to concentrate on the road but it was difficult considering what he’d just been told.

 

He’d assumed Harry had toppled off the beam and maybe knocked his hip. It would have meant taking a step backwards, but the muscle would have recovered again. It was already much stronger than before. Possibly even strong enough to take the fall.

 

But his shoulder?

 

Louis winced.

 

His shoulder would take a further few weeks to heal; more rehabilitation required to build that muscle back up, too. _Fuck_.

 

He should have been there to supervise. He would have held Harry’s waist while he worked the beam; supporting him while he went upside down. He hadn’t planned on him actually doing gymnastics; only to do handstands and hand walking. Clearly Harry had other ideas.

 

And how had he twisted and strained the muscle when he should have just fallen?

 

Louis didn’t have any answers to his questions but he had to focus on the task at hand. He’d deal with the aftermath later.

 

//

 

It was dark when Louis got back to the mansion. There’d been an issue with his licence that the pharmacy had needed to check into and it had made Louis feel like a criminal standing there waiting to be cleared.

 

He’d left his medical bag in the hallway when Niall had dropped him off and he slipped the paper bag into the top; looking to Liam nervously.

 

“Does he know I’m here?”

 

Liam sighed.

 

“Look, don’t be mad at me,” he begged and already Louis felt a worming in his tummy. “He didn’t want me to call. He asked me to find another physio and-“

 

“Fucking Niall,” Louis whispered darkly, shaking his head.

 

“Yeah,” Liam winced. “But then you came and I thought—I thought that you’d want to-“ Liam stopped talking.

 

Louis took a deep breath. The most important thing right now was Harry. Not the smarting pain from knowing Harry hadn’t asked for him; but had in fact requested for Niall to take over his muscular care. That didn’t matter. Harry had his reasons for not wanting Louis there and Louis knew what they were. He hadn’t replied to any of his messages so why would Harry have a reason to think Louis cared enough to come?

 

And Niall was a good physio, that much was true. But he wouldn’t tailor his care specially for Harry because he didn’t know him yet like Louis did. He didn’t know he had a weak spot in his side which made him cave when you kissed it. He didn’t know that he liked being touched and having his hair stroked to soothe his fear.

 

Louis sometimes wished he didn’t know any of that, either.

 

“Just take me up,” he sighed. “Maybe we can knock him out,” he added dryly and Liam turned to flash him an amused smile.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Seeing him again was—

 

 _Fuck_.

 

Harry was laid on his side on the bed; eyes closed but face pulled into a painful grimace.

 

No wonder, his spine was crooked and it would be pulling at his shoulder—

 

Louis swallowed as his heart rate raced. He was beautiful, still. His uncut hair was curling up at the edges, rebellious curls trying to form in the dark chocolatey strands. His face was pale; even his lips which on closer inspection, were cracked with lack of moisture.

 

“Can you get a jug of water please, Liam,” Louis asked softly, not wanting to wake Harry.

 

He advanced into the room and placed his case on the chair by the bed.

 

He had to be careful not to scare him and more importantly, not to anger him. Coming close by the bed, Louis took in more detail. He was shivering slightly; arms goose-pimpled and his sling was slack from where he was on his side.

 

Liam had promised to look after him. Louis could see Harry was the same stubborn bastard he had met three months ago.

 

“Don’t kick me in the balls,” he said, only.

 

Curled lashes flickered; puffy lids opening and hazy green eyes taking a few seconds to focus. Louis expected fire. He expected defiance and a fight. Harry stared at him.

 

“Please make it stop,” he whispered, voice gravelly and weak.

 

Louis felt his heart break inside his chest. _Fuck_. He was in so much pain he was _begging_ him to make it stop. He nodded and took a fortifying breath as he moved around the bed.

 

He gently gathered the spare pillows and stacked them up into a curve for Harry’s body to recline in, calling to Liam to bring him more.

 

“I need you to sit up,” Louis told him in his softest voice, aware of Harry’s vulnerability. “I’m going to put an injection into your shoulder to relieve the pain a bit and I’m going to re-do the sling so that it supports you better, okay?”

 

He needed to check Harry was happy with his suggested treatment otherwise he’d never forgive himself.

 

“Okay,” Harry agreed in a papery voice, his swallow audible.

 

“I also need you to drink some water,” he added reproachfully. “Did you have anything sugary yet?”

 

Louis looked to Liam when Harry didn’t respond, eyes squeezing shut again.

 

Liam shook his head.

 

“He’s probably in shock…Jesus, who the fuck came out to see him?” He demanded tersely.

 

“I’ll get a cup of tea…three sugars be enough?” Liam checked.

 

Louis nodded and reminded himself to breathe.

 

“Baby, we need to get you sitting up,” Louis reminded Harry softly as he stood in front of him.

 

Harry blinked at him tiredly.

 

“Can’t. It hurts.”

 

Louis knew it was going to hurt a bit more before the pain would subside.

 

“It’s going to hurt for about another five minutes and then I promise I’ll make it better, alright?”

 

Harry eyed him distrustfully, but Louis helped him to sit up, dragging his legs over the edge of the bed and supporting his elbow as he moved. He carefully untied the loose sling and tossed it away with a derisive tut; infuriated at the poor job the doctor had done in dressing the joint.

 

He took a pair of scissors out of his bag and shredded Harry’s t-shirt off his body.

 

Harry frowned at him in an almost affronted way and Louis couldn’t help his relieved, breathy smile.

 

“Don’t worry, this is just so you don’t have to move it,” he assured of his shoulder.

 

Harry pouted with a tiny nod.

 

Louis pursed his lips at the padding the doctor had covered his shoulder with; quickly deciding that the next time Harry needed a doctor, they’d be using someone Louis knew and not whoever Harry had on speed dial.

 

“Jesus,” he whispered, carefully unpeeling the white tape from his sensitive skin.

 

Even then Harry hissed and curved his shoulders inward protectively.

 

“It’s better without it,” Louis told him, brushing fingers through his tufted hair. “Having the tape on your skin is just aggravating the nerves.”

 

Harry sat quietly while Louis fetched a new sling.

 

“Ah, Liam,” he crooned as the other man stepped back into the room, ferrying the warm drink towards the bedside table. “We need warm clothes…. a thermal vest would be useful and a hoodie or something that zips up…warmest you can find,” he added.

 

Liam nodded and went about completing his next task while Louis unfurled the paper bag to lift out a small syringe and a tiny bottle. He washed his hands and used anti-bacterial lotion before slipping on a pair of latex gloves, piercing the bottle lid with his syringe and drawing out the liquid.

 

He flicked his eyes to Harry who was still dazed and in shock.

 

“Drink your tea, Harry,” he encouraged.

 

Harry slurped the warm liquid and shivered again, something which made Louis press his lips together in silent frustration. He swabbed Harry’s skin to clean it for the injection.

 

“You okay with needles?” He checked in a gentle voice.

 

Harry put his cup down and nodded, but he flicked his eyes away while Louis injected the steroid.

 

“Liam, clothes,” Louis looked up and around whilst carrying the used needle to his case and pulling out a disposal bag for it.

 

“Here,” Liam dumped a pile of clothes on the bed.

 

Louis looked from the pile to him with a brow arch.

 

“Just a few things, I see…”

 

Liam blinked at him.

 

“Never mind,” Louis rooted through the clothing to fetch out a ribbed grey vest which he rolled up carefully under his fingers.

 

Harry glared at him.

 

“And how’s that getting on?”

                                                                                                                               

“Just lay your hand on your knee,” he asked.

 

Harry grimaced but did as he was asked.

 

“And now lift it an inch,” Louis instructed, sliding the sleeve-hole of the vest over his hand and ensuring his good arm was in the right hole, too before he unfurled the clothing over Harry’s body.

 

“I’m uh…going downstairs,” Liam cleared his throat from behind Louis and Louis nodded distractedly, tugging down the vest to cover Harry’s laurels.

 

Louis looked at his patient, urging the steroid to kick in. Harry would have made a joke about dressing him if he’d felt well and Louis wanted to hear his low-toned filthy jokes more than anything else right in that moment.

 

He filtered through the clothes again, finding a fleece zip-up jacket which was easy enough to pull on to Harry’s body. He considered a thick, furry body-warmer as Harry finished his tea.

 

“Want this too?” Louis looked over.

 

Harry eyed it and then looked at Louis, lips pressing together.

 

“Yeah,” he said slowly, reminding Louis of his ordeal.

 

He helped Harry into the sleeveless jacket and picked up his sling.

 

“I’m going to tie it tight just for tonight,” He explained. “It’s to stop you moving your arm because it’ll make it hurt and you’ll have trouble sleeping…”

 

Harry scoffed.

 

“What’s new?”

 

Louis threaded the dressing around his arm; extra-careful not to jog it. He swallowed at Harry’s admission to finding it hard to sleep. Surely he could see that Louis had too? They both had bruises under their eyes to prove it.

 

“I’m going to stack some pillows around it, too,” Louis soothed, ignoring the weight in the room. “And I have some sedatives that will help you rest.”

 

“Whatever,” Harry flicked his eyes away when Louis tried to engage him.

 

He wanted to ask Harry what had happened, wanted to press kisses to his forehead, over his eyelids and onto his cheeks. He hadn’t done that, yet, hadn’t had much opportunity to love him in the tender way his body ached to. He’d been so worried when Niall had told him he was hurt it was almost as if none of it mattered. Not the press, not the lies and not the hurt he had felt before.

 

But it _did_ matter.

 

His mind stayed resolute on that.

 

Louis strapped up his shoulder and adjusted his pillow mound; guiding him into it and arranging the extra ones to anchor him in place.

 

“When did you last eat?” Louis asked, eyes going over him for any other signs of discomfort.

 

His fingers automatically brushed back his flopping fringe. Harry stared at the ceiling.

 

“Can’t remember.”

 

“I’ll bring you some soup, you should eat before you go to sleep,” he murmured.

 

“Yes, Sir,” Harry answered derisively.

 

“Does it hurt a bit less now?” He asked hopefully; ignoring the barb in Harry’s tone.

 

Harry’s nod brought a weight off his shoulders he hadn’t known rested there.

 

“Good. That’s good.”

 

He turned to walk to the doorway, checking back one last time. Harry’s eyes were already closed.

 

//

 

“I don’t need you to feed me.”

 

Louis sat on the edge of the bed and unfolded the luxury cotton napkin; flattening it over Harry’s chest.

 

“Liam can help me if I need it,” Harry added. “Which I _don’t_ …because I still have a hand that works,” he lifted it to waggle his fingers.

 

Louis knew he was going too far with the feeding thing but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to make sure the soup went down Harry’s actual throat and not in a plant pot somewhere or down the toilet.

 

“What do I do when I need to pee?” Harry enquired as Louis gently blew on the steaming bowl.

 

“You call me or Liam and we help you up,” Louis replied to his practical question.

 

“You’re staying the night?” Harry peered at him, brow furrowed.

 

Louis felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

 

“Well, not if you don’t want me to,” he sighed ruefully, scooping up some soup and wiping the bottom of the spoon carefully on the lip of the bowl to prevent it dripping. “Open wide…”

 

Harry glared at him until the soup reached his mouth and then he opened, obediently swallowing the warm food. It felt good, the heat of it in his chest. It tasted good, too.

 

“Who made it, Maite?” Harry enquired.

 

“This is known as my cure-all chicken soup,” Louis shared more lightly, a smirk slipping into his lips. “This has been known to inspire marriage proposals I’ll have you know…”

 

It was good. Harry narrowed his eyes at him. _But who-?_

 

“Who proposed to you?”

 

Louis let a grin break free.

 

“Some guy at college,” he admitted reluctantly. “Guess he was really hungover…”

 

The story didn’t inspire a smile from Harry but mostly because the idea of Louis being with anyone else was not a laughing matter.

 

“More soup, please,” he said instead.

 

Louis repeated his action with the spoon, eyes flicking to Harry’s face when he sucked down the spoonful.

 

“I’m going to look at a diet plan. I don’t think you’re consuming enough calories to sustain your increased activity…”

 

Harry blinked at him. He’d missed Louis being there to care about him in the most basic sense. _Was he eating? Was he warm enough? Was he taking care of himself?_

“Are you moving back in?”

 

The question hung in the room like a week-old helium balloon. Louis cleared his throat.

 

“I, uh…I hadn’t thought about it.”

 

Harry hummed, slurping up more soup as Louis offered it. Harry’s hand which rested on the bed covers between them twitched, his fingers curling to graze against his knee. It wasn’t an invitation in words but Louis knew the question was there. It was almost as if Harry was too afraid to ask it.

 

“Let’s see how you feel tomorrow,” Louis suggested eventually.

 

Harry finished his soup and wriggled in his pillow mound.

 

“Guess I better try and get some rest.”

 

Louis turned out the light and left the door slightly ajar.

 

//

 

It was 3am when Louis heard him struggle.

 

“Ow…fucking _ouch_ ,” Harry hissed from his room.

 

Louis was propped up against the wall, chin tipped to his chest as he napped; waiting for Harry to call him. He lifted his chin and yawned sleepily, ears straining to pick up any further sound.

 

“L-Liam?” Harry hesitated over the first name he called and it made Louis’ chest feel tight. “Louis? Are you there?”

 

Louis stretched his legs and pushed himself to his feet; knuckles rapping the bedroom door.

 

“Harry? You okay in there?”

 

“Help,” Harry mumbled and it wasn’t an urgent plea but the way he bleated it almost pathetically made Louis smile in the dark.

 

He flicked on the lamp to light the room in a gentle glow. Harry was rolled onto his good side, trying to kick his feet to the edge of the bed if not for his duvet and blankets and the pillows elevating him up off the mattress.

 

“You trapped me,” Harry accused groggily as Louis approached.

 

“Hey, careful,” Louis chided as Harry scissored his legs to toe his way to the edge of the bed. “You’ll strain your groin again…”

 

Harry huffed out a resigned breath and floundered in the middle of the mattress.

 

“Fine. Rescue me then, oh white knight,” he derided.

 

Louis turned him onto his back and wrapped gentle hands around his ankles to tug him to the edge of the bed. Harry looked up at him, knees bracing Louis’

 

“That’s your method? Drag me across the bed?”

 

“It’s what most people do with brats who are having tantrums,” Louis quipped with a sweet smile. “Now give me your good hand…”

 

Harry clasped his hand and let himself be pulled up, wincing as he squeezed his thighs together when Louis stepped away.

 

“Fuck, I really need to pee…”

 

“C’mon then,” Louis braced an arm around his back, crouching to take his weight.

 

Harry got up and shuffled his feet until he felt steady.

 

“Right I’m good.”

 

Louis arched a brow.

 

“You’ve had a sedative strong enough to knock out a horse,” Louis smarted. “I’m not letting go.”

 

Harry began to walk slowly toward the bathroom, a strange light-headed feeling coming over him. Maybe Louis was right. Maybe he did need the help after all. He leaned into him a bit more, Louis’ sleep-messed hair tickling his cheek.

 

“Where were you anyway?” Harry wondered then, waking up enough to think about it.

 

“Just passing in the hallway,” Louis replied, pulling the string which triggered the bathroom light.

 

Harry stared at the toilet basin, letting go of Louis to walk toward it, shaky on his feet. He couldn’t hold something to steady himself and hold his own dick to pee and it was a problem. His bladder burned with the need to release, so close to his goal.

 

He whimpered, turning to sit down instead, letting his dick sag between his thighs while Louis waited patiently outside the room. He wished he’d asked him to wait, now. He might have—

 

Harry shook his head, knocking it back as a pleasure unfurled in his belly. His bladder thanked him for the effort.

 

He managed to get himself back up, shoulder twinging sorely as he shuffled about, flushing the toilet and then washing his hands.

 

He appeared in the doorway.

 

“Back to bed?” Louis checked.

 

“Am I allowed to get some co-co pops?” He wondered.

 

Louis lifted his brows, a surprised smile sliding over his lips.

 

“I’ll bring some up, how’s that?”

 

“No,” Harry pouted. “I want to get my own. Been in bed all day and night.”

 

“Alright. I’ll go ahead of you on the stairs so you don’t slip,” he suggested.

 

“I’m not going to slip,” he argued as Louis guided him into the hall.

 

“Left you for five minutes and you already slipped,” Louis muttered as they moved slowly down the stairs. Harry shivered at the bottom in the cold foyer and Louis insisted on running back up for a blanket; arranging it around his shoulders as he trailed into the kitchen.

 

“Why’s it so fucking cold?” Harry mumbled as Louis pulled out a chair for him and pointed to it.

 

“I’ll get the cereal,” Louis assured.

 

Harry sat down, pulling the blanket around him more tightly.

 

“And you’re cold because you’re still in shock, probably,” Louis hummed, going on tiptoe to reach the cereal box in the cupboard which he brought over with the milk; going back for two bowls and two spoons.

 

Harry watched him under low lids, not commenting on Louis joining him for twilight snacks.

 

“I don’t feel shocked,” Harry murmured.

 

“It’s the pain,” Louis explained gently as he poured the chocolate crisped rice into Harry’s bowl first, followed by his own.

 

Harry unscrewed the milk lid one-handed and poured it on.

 

“Love full fat milk on co-co pops,” Harry licked his lips.

 

Louis hopped back up and walked to the fridge, returning with a small plastic pot.

 

“Want a splash of cream, too?”

 

Harry looked at him and his lips pulled into a smile. His cheeks felt flushed suddenly.

 

“Yes, please…”

 

Louis dipped into his bowl and crunched a mouthful of the rice.

 

“Feels like being a teenager again,” he mused.

 

The kitchen was quiet apart from the crunching as they ate, the odd scrape of spoon against bowl. It was dark outside accentuated by the bright hanging lights in the vast room; professional ovens and top of the range white goods softened by the old oak table and matching chairs; a rustic runner in the centre of the wood and a hand-arranged oasis in the centre.

 

If they had candles it might be softer, still, romantic even. The fact they were eating cereal probably put paid to that idea.

 

Harry peeked shy eyes at Louis.

 

“You didn’t have to come back.”

 

Louis nodded.

 

“I know.”

 

“I asked for Niall.”

 

“I know that, too.”

 

“Did you know before you got here?” He wondered.

 

Louis smiled, meeting his eyes.

 

“No.”

 

Harry blinked.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” Louis looked to his empty bowl.

 

“It hurt to think about you,” Harry admitted on a thick voice that got stuck in his throat. “I didn’t think seeing you would help any…”

 

Louis swallowed, fighting back his own aching pain.

 

“Same.”

 

Harry’s face creased, features lined with worry.

 

“Will you stay?”

 

Louis let out a breath, a rueful turn in the corners of his lips.

 

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

 

Harry reached for the cereal box and poured himself another bowl, adding cream and milk once more, crunching quietly.

 

“Okay,” he finally said.

 

Louis watched him, arm strapped up against his chest and face still pale. The blanket was hanging off the arm he was eating with; disturbed by the action. His hair was long enough to fall into his eyes now; long enough to overlap his collar fully. The fur gilet Louis had dressed him in looked soft enough to stroke and Louis hated that he wanted to, that he wanted him at all after everything that had happened.

 

“I’ll stick around tonight,” he added.

 

On the way back to his room, Harry turned in the doorway.

 

“Louis?”

 

“Yes, love?” Louis answered without thinking, wincing at the slip.

 

“You don’t have to sleep in the hallway you know. You can take the sofa in my room if it’s easier.”

 

Louis made sure he was settled in his pillow haven comfortably before he turned out the main room light. The sofa had a duvet thrown over it and some spare pillows stacked on the arm, probably Liam’s doing Louis mused.

 

He closed the bedroom door gently and walked across the room to curl up on the surprisingly comfortable couch; pulling the duvet over himself with an emotional sigh.

 

“Goodnight, Lou,” he heard Harry call to him in a soft voice and the nickname pierced his heart. He shouldn’t have called him _love_ earlier. Or _baby_.

 

“Goodnight,” he replied anyway after Harry turned out the side light.

 

//

 

 

 

Liam sat at the kitchen table while Maite prepared a cooked breakfast for them and Louis busied himself with chopping fruit and vegetables to put in the blender to make smoothies. 

 

"This should bolster his immune system," the older man murmured. "Speed up the healing process..."

 

When Harry shuffled into the room he was huddled into his warm clothing and Louis wanted to pick up right where they left off- by kissing him fiercely and curling his fingers into that thick hair.

 

"You're talking about me," Harry stated in lieu of a greeting.

 

Louis fit the lid of the processor and switched it on. The noise drowned out any conversation.

 

He poured a glass of the concoction and carried it over to place it in front of Harry.

 

"Drink up," he instructed.

 

Harry's eyes clung to him and Louis shied away. He'd barely slept on the sofa, too many thoughts swimming around his wired brain.

 

"You should get some rest too, Louis," Liam was saying. He assumed he'd just told Harry to take it easy today.

 

Louis waved a hand dismissively, setting the toaster with bread while Maite filled plates with cooked fare.

 

"You do know I pay for someone to do that?" Harry enquired pointedly.

 

He knew Louis was stalling. He could see the avoidance in his tense stance and tired eyes.

 

"Just coming," Louis promised as he buttered the bread and carried it over, sliding into the seat beside Harry. He couldn't cope with his beautiful green eyes right now.

 

Harry nibbled on the edge of his toast.

 

"I'm not really hungry..."

 

"You should try and eat something," Louis said. "You're going to need more meds and it'll keep your strength up..."

 

"More meds," Harry smiled wanly. "My hero."

 

"How bad is it?" Louis asked, forking bacon into his mouth.

 

Harry blinked with a swallow, pushing his food around his plate.

 

"Pretty bad."

 

"I can't give you another injection until tonight but I've got morphine...It's going to make you drowsy though."

 

Harry gave a weak smile.

 

"I guess that would be okay."

 

Louis looked at him worriedly.

 

"Do you feel sick?" He asked.

 

Harry shook his head but Louis twisted to press the back of his hand against Harry's forehead. 

 

"Any symptoms?" Louis twisted to lift Harry's arm into his lap, checking his pulse.

 

"I'm fine," Harry frowned. 

 

"But you don't want morphine?" Louis queried. "It's the best method of reducing your pain..."

 

Harry looked around the room at Liam and Maite.

 

"I have to go," Liam jumped up.

 

Maite dried her hands and slipped from the room.

 

"Subtle," Harry joked of his staff.

 

Louis smiled and brushed a thumb over the inside of his wrist without thinking. When he realised what he was doing he carefully laid Harry's arm back on the table.

 

"Finish your toast," he rasped.

 

Harry chewed slowly, finally gazing at Louis openly. 

 

"I don't like how I feel all sluggish and like I can't control my own body...I'm scared of going to sleep and waking up on my shoulder, you know?"

 

Louis nodded, rising from the table.

 

"I'll come and settle you," he suggested. "We can start some gentle movement tomorrow."

 

Harry got up and followed him to his room; Louis blocking his body with pillows carefully just like before. He sighed as Louis went to leave; covering his own yawn.

 

"Lou?"

 

Something in Louis' belly flip-flopped. His old nick-name sounded so emphatic now. He turned and flicked his eyes over the man lying in the bed.

 

"Go to sleep, Harry. "

 

Harry swallowed

 

"Stay with me?" He begged .

 

Louis dipped his head, resolve weakening.

 

"Just until I'm asleep," Harry whispered. "Please. "

 

It had always been difficult to resist him but Louis missed him, too. And so his heart was weak.  Too weak to say no to a beautiful man with sleepy green eyes.

 

He moved toward the bed, toeing off his shoes. He slipped into the side nearest Harry's good shoulder and pulled the covers over himself.

 

"Just until you go to sleep..." He muttered; even though they both knew he was lying.

 

Harry reached out and grasped the edge of Louis' jumper.

 

"Thank you," he whispered before he let his eyes close.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Louis woke to the sound of someone crying. Wet sniffles and gasped shuddering breaths brought him upright with a start.

 

He was in Harry's room. And Harry was crying.

 

He lowered himself back down, elbow propped on the bed as he curled onto his side to work out what the problem was. Harry was staring at the ceiling and refused to look over.

 

"Hey...what's the matter?" Louis panicked. "Does it hurt? Did the morphine make you feel weird?"

 

Harry lifted his only free hand to splay it over his face, segueing into full on sobs.

 

Louis had no choice. He carefully leaned across him to slide his arms underneath Harry to support his shoulder gently while he rolled back; effectively pulling Harry against his chest to comfort him.

 

He rubbed his back slightly with tender hands.

 

"Shh it's okay, baby. Whatever it is we can fix it okay?"

 

Harry gurgled in his throat and sobbed loudly, clutching into the back of Louis' jumper with his good hand. Louis felt his chest break open at hearing his pain and he felt regret twist through him when Harry pressed his cheek against his chest.

 

"It's just a small set back, Angel. You'll bounce back from this in no time...we'll keep working on your hip and in a few weeks you'll have your boots on, I promise..."

 

Harry shook his head and wriggled closer, capturing one of Louis' legs with two of his own as if to pin him there. 

 

"Don't leave," he pleaded, voice contorted.

 

Louis felt guilt spear him; the unspoken _again_ summoned by his own mind. If he hadn't have left in the first place then Harry wouldn't be here; injured again. And he hated making promises because he was the kind of guy that had to keep them no matter what and _fuck it_ if he wasn't still a bit angry at Harry for lying to him but as he cradled Harry against him, he couldn't utter anything else than affirmation that he'd be there to protect him from there on.

 

"I won't," he murmured into Harry's silky hair.  "Angel, I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

 

Louis lifted his eyes to the heavens and let out a sigh. Where did his promise leave them? 

 

Harry wriggled a bit against him to get comfortable, bad arm tucked between them tightly. He combed his fingers through the back of Harry’s hair and acknowledged that his love for Harry outweighed his anger. At least if he recognised it he might have a better chance of building defences.

 

He smirked to himself in the dark with a breathy snort. _Who was he kidding?_

 

//

 

 

Harry was kissing him.

 

It was slow and sweet and it made something swirl in his tummy.

 

He'd woken to find Harry propped on his good elbow staring at him while he slept but before he'd had semblance to move, Harry had leaned in and brushed their lips together.

 

He tasted the same, a little bitter thanks to not brushing their teeth but his lips felt just as soft. His body responded the same way too; nerves coming alive at having the bigger man leaning over him and flicking his tongue slowly into his mouth.

 

It was a thank you, Louis guessed. It felt hopeful though and he cupped Harry's face to thumb at his cheeks, gently easing him away.

 

He didn't have the words to express why he stopped.

 

Harry seemed to know.

 

"Not good, huh?" He quipped quietly but his expression changed into something anxious and his eyes flicked away. 

 

"Harry, I-"

 

Louis curled a hand around his good arm as he slid away.

 

"I'm going to tell Maite I'm making pancakes for breakfast," Harry cut over him, struggling to get up from the bed.

 

Louis watched him leave the room with an ache in his chest.

 

//

 

"Little bite," Louis warned as he injected steroid into Harry's shoulder.

 

Harry winced but let Louis pull on a fresh t-shirt.  He'd had a shower after breakfast and Louis planned to do some basic movement exercises before he went back to Niall's for some of his things.

 

"Okay, you warm enough?" Louis asked as Harry sat in the chair by the bed. 

 

"Can't we do this outside?" 

 

Louis bit his lip thoughtfully. 

 

"If you put on a jumper and a fleece," he bargained.

 

Harry stared at him.

 

"I'm not a child."

 

Louis pursed his lips.

 

"You're also not going outside without two layers of warm clothing, so..."

 

Harry tugged out a baggy black jumper he could wrap his hands in and he fetched the furry gilet Louis had dressed him in before.

 

"Will this do?"

 

Louis nodded and they made their way down to the pool. 

 

Louis was right, there was a bite of chill in the air and he let out a smoky breath as he found a nice spot looking out on his lawns. The woodland was threaded with mist and wildlife was slowly waking up, soft bird calls comforting him.

 

He took a deep breath and did some squats and lunges with Louis' help, running through some simple lower body stretches that didn't require his arm.

 

Louis had tied a sling until he'd finished his routine but Harry's fingertips were getting cold so he rubbed them against his chest to warm them up.

 

When Louis untied his arm he watched him nervously, pain edging into his consciousness when he twisted his arm or lifted it above his head. Even with the injection it was sore but Louis needed to find out how to fix it. 

 

"Your rotary function is better than I expected," Louis narrated. "Although there is more tightness in your chest than I would like to see..."

 

Harry smirked as Louis tested his pectoral and ribs.

 

"I'm leaner than when you were last here," he admitted.

 

Louis nodded, looking into his face.

 

"Have you been using a punchbag?"

 

Harry blinked, cheeks flushing.

 

 _Shit_.

 

"Maybe."

 

"I need to give you some different stretches for that," he murmured.  "I think you probably went a bit hard at it and then everything tightened up..."

 

"That's what happens when some asshole tries to blackmail you," Harry muttered under his breath.

 

Louis' gaze snapped to his as he set his arm back by his side.

 

"What happened?"

 

Harry shook his head and let out a slow calming breath.

 

"Nothing. It won't happen again," he assured. 

 

"Boxing is actually really good," Louis encouraged.  "With swimming and your core programme you'll be stronger than ever."

 

Harry swallowed.

 

"Can we go for a walk?"

 

Louis' face creased as he looked around the garden. It was cold and damp and he needed to strap Harry's arm.

 

He looked into his face and saw an innocence he hadn't seen before. A fear that Louis would say no.

 

"Let me get our jackets," Louis moved to fetch the outerwear from the house.

 

//

 

Harry played with his loose coat sleeve, pretending it was his real arm and tucking it into his pocket or swinging it in front of him with a dimmed dimpled smile.

 

He turned to Louis as they reached the pond and offered the sleeve to him. Louis looked at it bemusedly.

 

He grasped the edge of it in his hand in place of holding Harry's hand and lifted it up.

 

"You do know how weird this is?"

 

Harry shrugged with a happy smile so Louis walked along with his sleeve clasped in his fingers. When he needed both hands to rescue an upturned hedgehog struggling on his back he wedged the sleeve in his pocket and Harry walked closer to him after that so as not to dislodge it.

 

//

 

"See you later?" Harry checked as Louis got into his Land Rover to fetch his things. 

 

"I won't be long," Louis promised.

 

//

 

"Louis there's some guy here for ya," Niall told him as he was packing his suitcase.

 

Louis made his way down the stairs to the door finding a middle aged man there dressed peculiarly in a fur coat.

 

"I'm Smith," the man held out his card.

 

_Media mogul._

 

Louis narrowed his eyes and took a step back, quite prepared to slam the door in his face.

 

"I'm guessing you've heard?" Smith asked.

 

Louis shook his head, afraid to open his mouth.

 

"We broke the truth about Valentine in this morning's publication...we know he's an addict," the man told him. "And we know he used _you_ to cover it up."

 

Louis felt the air leave his lungs.  His knees buckled with the relief and he almost stumbled and fell.

 

"Fuck."

 

"So if you wanted to tell your side of the story, I’m sure we could negotiate a fair deal to benefit us both, I'm all ears," Smith added.

 

Louis stared at him.

 

"I’d rather just get on with my life, actually."

 

"You could get an extra incentive if you give me an exclusive on Styles you know...” ~~~~

Louis' gaze snapped to the uncaring face of the man stood before him.

 

"Think I'll pass," he managed to say without ripping the man's throat out.

 

"Funny," Smith smirked. "That’s what he said too when I asked..."

 

The older man turned away from the door and Louis thought his heart might beat out of his chest.

 

"Call me if you change your mind," the man added before bumbling towards his Mercedes. 

 

Louis shut the door with a quiet huff.

 

//

 

"What did he want?" Niall asked nosily when Louis walked back in.

 

"A story on Victor and Harry," Louis answered honestly.

 

"Victor? He's old news."

 

"They found out about his addiction," Louis murmured, legs feeling wobbly.

 

Niall seemed to notice and guided him to the sofa.

 

"Hey are you ok? What else did he tell ya?"

 

"That Harry refused to sell a story on me," Louis whispered, hands shaking as he pressed them together between his thighs in his lap.

 

"Knew he was a good'un," Niall nodded.

 

The Irish man rubbed a hand over Louis' curved shoulders.

 

"Lou what's going on?"

 

"H-he had the chance to save himself," Louis frowned. "The press are crucifying him over the fake ID and he could have--" he gulped. "He could have told them _anything_ to get the heat off. I mean I...I walked out like-- _fuck_ ," Louis finished; emotional tears welling in his eyes.

 

Niall was grinning when Louis looked over.

 

"Told ya so."

 

Louis reached to hug his friend. "I'm sorry I didn't listen."

 

"Just go and kiss your boy would you?" Niall teased. "I'm fed up with his sad face emoji texts..."

 

Louis huffed out a laugh and wiped his eyes as he pulled away.

 

"I'm not sure it's me who can change them into smiles," he mused but Niall’s knowing grin told him otherwise.

 

//

 

"Louis they printed the true story about Victor!" Harry rushed to tell him as he dropped his luggage in the foyer.

 

"I know…the guy came to see me," Louis acknowledged.

 

"Smith?" Harry queried.

 

"Yeah that's the one...you know him?"

 

Harry looked at Louis for a long moment.

 

"I told him to stay on my good side if he wanted my exclusive interview after the Association deliver my punishment."

 

Louis lifted his chin.

 

"Guess he thought clearing my name would sweeten you up..."

 

"Guess he did."

 

Harry's voice was deep and husky and Louis wanted to push his soft fringe away from his face but he flexed his fingers against the urge. 

 

"How do you feel?" Harry asked.   

 

"Relieved," Louis admitted. "Kind of shocked too..."

 

Harry cleared his throat a bit and tucked one foot behind his ankle.

 

"You know....my fans don't hate you," he broached. "Despite the papers, they seem to think you make me happier and--"

 

Louis glanced up at his sudden confession.

 

"Maybe you should look sometime. At the nice things they say."

 

Louis’ heart felt like lead in his chest. 

 

" _Do_  I make you happier?" He wondered; going back to Niall's claim before he'd left.

 

Harry blinked at him, free hand pulling the hem of his jumper over his hip. Louis wanted to remind him to stand straight and not push his hip out that way but he looked heartbreakingly beautiful, he didn't have the words to correct him.

 

"Yes, you do," Harry answered softly, almost reluctant to admit it.

 

Louis stared at him. It made him happy too, having someone he fit so effortlessly with; someone who made him feel that he was worth so much more than he deserved.

 

"I'm going to unpack my things," he said to break the moment.

 

Disappointment flickered across Harry's face momentarily; quickly replaced by a polite smile.

 

Louis missed the days when Harry would flirt outrageously to win him over and break his resolve.  He missed his assured confidence somehow.

 

"See you at dinner tonight?" Louis enquired lightly before he hauled his case up the stairs.

 

"That would be nice," Harry nodded as Louis began to walk away.

 

//

 

Louis chewed on his second mouthful of the casserole Harry put together for dinner. 

 

He got the feeling Harry was in some small way trying to impress him, or to make things up to him by cooking for him but-

 

Well, the chicken was chewy and the carrots were raw.

 

“Now I see why you pay someone to cook,” he remarked softly, sticking to the creamy mash on the side of his plate.

 

Harry’s eyes shot to him, momentarily accusing until his lips relaxed into a sheepish smile.

 

“Well, I never boasted about winning a man’s affections through my cooking,” he mused.

 

Louis smirked at the reference to his story about his chicken soup.

 

“Doesn’t mean much unless you want the guy’s affections, I guess,” he commented.

 

“I do,” Harry replied honestly, soft and quiet.

 

Louis lathed his lower lip with his tongue.

 

“You better have a blinding dessert, then,” he managed weakly.

 

Harry swallowed, laying down his fork.

 

“I made chocolate cheesecake,” he offered.

 

Louis nodded, lips pursing.

 

“Think we can move straight onto that,” he teased, collecting their plates to take them to the sink to wash them while Harry managed one-handed in dishing up their sweet course.

 

“Shall we sit in the parlour?” Harry suggested, stacking two bowls together with two spoons rested in the top one.

 

He was holding Louis’ dessert hostage, it seemed. Blackmail to make him agree to his suggestion. Louis considered him, felt the now-familiar wings on his heart flutter and flap. Harry didn’t need to trick him into spending time together; his body wanted it even when his mind argued and he had come here _knowing_ he’d be drawn back into loving him.

 

Because he hadn’t really _stopped_.

 

“Let me carry the precious cargo,” Louis took the bowls and led the way.

 

Harry leaned into him as he grew tired; softly telling Louis about his teen-aged dreams of winning ice-skating championships. How his hunger for success had led him to make a controversial and ill-advised decision to fast track his career. He told him how his father hadn’t questioned the validity of his entry into the competitions with minimum age limits older than his own age at the time; how he’d encouraged and even pushed Harry to achieve more than he possibly could.

 

He talked about how hard it was, coming of age in a world where everyone thought he had his shit together when he was struggling; feeling isolated and alone. Louis still got a sense of that loneliness even now; even when Harry was curled underneath his arm and nosing into his neck for reassurance.

 

Louis rubbed his arm and let him talk for as long as he needed; for as long as his pain-management drugs allowed. And then he carried him up the stairs to bed and settled him gently into it; curling up beside him when Harry sleepily asked him not to go.

 

//

 

Harry’s gaze clung to him at breakfast.

 

Louis felt a new kind of awareness arrowing into his veins since waking up beside Harry; body ridged hard against Harry's thigh.

 

Harry had blinked sleepily at him; reaching to pull him close but Louis had slid out of the bed; wanting to escape.

 

He wasn’t ready to go there, yet. And it scared him how much he wanted to.

 

He’d been back for a day and his anger was no longer burning up inside him. It was resolved, almost. Harry’s heart-breaking words from the night before rested resolutely in his head.

 

He really hadn’t expected the press to ever find out.

 

And who could have predicted their ridiculous story? It was a far reach to suggest Louis was a deviant just because Harry was younger than him. Age-gap relationships occurred all the time in the world of celebrity and they were often applauded. Why should Louis feel like wanting Harry was something sordid and perverted?

 

Harry had never made him feel that way and he was the only person who mattered.

 

And sleeping beside him and watching him cry had reminded him of that fact. Because in that moment that Niall had told him Harry was hurt; he would have given his life over to change it.

 

“Shall we try some stretches in the pool?”

 

His voice sounded soft and uncertain while Harry watched him.

 

“Okay,” Harry agreed, equally tender.

 

Louis finished his cereal and got up to get ready for the session.

 

 

// 

 

Harry’s hair fell damply around his face in tiny curls that Louis pushed back gently while Harry focused on his stretches. 

 

Louis had him doing squats in the water with gentle arm movements while the water supported his weight.

 

Louis was having a hard time resisting. He wanted to kiss Harry more than he remembered wanting anything before and the way his t-shirt clung to his body attractively when he bobbed out of the water; loose and flowy underneath it, was driving him slowly insane.

 

He held him around the middle when it came to the spring jumps. Harry flicked his hair away from his face, the strands longer because the water weighed out their bounce.

 

He let Harry rest for a moment, breathing softly as he leaned into Louis slightly, using him as an anchor. Louis slid his hands over his waist as he kept him steady, secretly sneaking a feel of the curves he had missed. He may be leaner now but he was equally beautiful.

 

Harry hummed. It was low and pleased and Louis felt awareness tickle his skin.

 

 _Was he getting off on it?_ On being touched?

 

Louis tested the theory; gently caressing his skin. It earned him a throaty purr.

 

He looked into his face which was tilted down; eyes hiding in the water. His breath suddenly felt difficult, tightly drawn in and barely letting out. The chemistry that had once existed between them was there in a snap; water rippling as he steadied his stance to accommodate Harry leaning into him.

 

Harry's hands slowly covered his own, clutching them firmly once they had prime position over his.

 

Louis nearly called his name. Nearly put paid to the idea of whatever _this_ was but his tongue was rigid in his mouth; unable to move.

 

"Lou," it was half moan, half breath. 

 

Louis hitched a breath, about to move but Harry guided his hands over his body, curving them over his hips. It was an aching reminder of what he’d gone without the last few weeks.

 

"Missed you...missed you touching me," Harry breathed as he leaned closer, lips brushing against Louis' cheek.

 

 _I missed it too_.

 

His mind answered where his mouth didn't but Harry glanced at him to check he was ok. Louis' dark look told him he was more than ok.

 

"Need you to-"

 

Harry fell into him, balance disrupted by the water and the fact he'd misplaced Louis' hand from his hip to slide it over the front of his shorts.

 

Louis blinked, frozen. He tried to catch air as Harry relocated his other hand around his back, guiding it onto his ass cheek.

 

"Want to feel you," Harry mumbled throatily. "Everywhere...please, Lou," he begged sweetly.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

 _Please_.

 

"Where do you want to touch?" Harry murmured in a low hushed voice. "Here?" He pushed two of Louis’ fingers against his crack. 

 

Louis pulled his other hand free where Harry uncupped it and Louis curled it over his heart.

 

It was a brave move; highly risky and it felt like double or nothing in the gamble. If Harry didn't want more than sex with him then he was giving him an out. 

 

"Here," he whispered, heart rabbiting with fear.

 

Harry blinked at him, lips fallen open and eyes searching where Louis’ darted away. Harry tilted his head and nudged his nose but Louis was afraid to look up. He watched Harry's hand lift to cover his once more, cradling it against his own pattering heart.

 

He picked it up again, pressing the tips of Louis' fingers to his lips to lay gentle kisses against them.

 

"You already have,” he murmured lowly. “Got a few other ideas for this hand," he smirked.

 

Louis let him guide its journey, pressing it flat against his chest to roam his torso, wet t-shirt translucent in the water.

 

He dragged it slowly over the creased material, under the water and onto his belly where he held it for a moment before guiding it lower still, toward the bulge Louis could make out through the ripples. 

 

Harry pressed himself against Louis' palm, grinning with an excited gasp.

 

"Y-yes! Mmm, Lou," he moaned after with a blissful smile.

 

It was so hot that Louis was amazed he hadn't combusted yet. His palm burned at being pressed against Harry's hardening dick and his own body answered swiftly, an aching weight settling between his thighs.

 

"Where do you-" Harry broke off, shuffling into his raw hand job, breath catching as he pressed himself into his hand hard; desire escalating quickly. 

 

Louis shifted, the hand behind Harry roaming his ass greedily; mauling the skin with eager want. 

 

"Where do _you_ want me to touch?" Louis finally spoke, cupping into Harry's lower back gently. He felt his resolve melt away; his opposition floating off in the water.

 

Harry shivered and Louis worried about the temperature of the water while he trailed Harry's hair back carefully. He cuddled Harry against him while Harry teased at dipping both their hands under his shorts band.

 

"Here?" Louis breathed, spreading his hand over Harry's pubic bone.

 

"Want you inside me...want to feel you again..."

 

And fuck _yes_. If Louis didn't want it too. As if he didn't want every aching hard inch sinking into his tightness the way he already had; the memory of which was fading. 

 

Louis worked his hand downwards under Harry's shorts band, smiling as Harry slowly caught it up, taking control once more. Louis let his hand go lax; let Harry stare into his darkened blue eyes for the seconds it took to catch his breath or some semblance or whatever it was he needed before he let Louis wrap his fingers around his rigid heat.

 

His tip brushed the edge of Louis ' hand and he leaned instinctively closer as if to kiss him but he bit his lip to stop himself.

 

"I'm not mad anymore," Louis spoke his thoughts aloud when Harry ducked to meet his advance.

 

Harry dipped to one side.

 

"Need you," he growled against Louis ear, finally forming his fingers around his erection with a heavy swallow and a throaty sound. "Fuck, Lou, need you so much..."

 

Louis tightened his fingers, letting Harry set the pace. He dragged up the back of his t-shirt to brush his bare skin, yanking down his shorts fully to squeeze his bare backside. His fingers slid onto the crease wetly, still rough with no lube to glide the touch.  He gently burrowed his fingertip inwards to tug at his rim while Harry surged up into the hand he clenched around himself.

 

"Stop fucking teasing me," he gasped.

 

"Call it punishment for lying to me," Louis told him. 

 

"Some kind of punishment," Harry arched back with a breathy laugh, enjoying the moment with a beautiful smile that Louis took a mental picture of.

 

 _He_ caused Harry to smile like that. 

 

Harry slid his free arm from Louis' waist to his shoulders, gaining ground to press closer, Louis' hand tight around him as he stroked himself over it; fingers alternating.

 

Louis brushed his fingertip over his hole again; gently enough not to burn.

 

"Lou," Harry swallowed hard, sucking in a desperate breath. It was a warning, a pleading cry.

 

Louis couldn't give him everything he wanted. His face creased as he watched him in the midst of his orgasm.

 

"Mind your shoulder," he rasped, aware of Harry’s arm around him, clutching on tightly.

 

Harry's eyes blinked slowly open; wide and dark with blown pupils. Louis flickered his finger, tightened his hand.

 

"Baby, kiss me," he whispered, lashes lowering to half cover his eyes as he looked up, Harry crowded incredibly close.

 

Harry didn't need telling a third time. Louis concentrated on working him up to his high; slow but sure in his ministrations while Harry clumsily pressed their lips together and sucked tenderly at his; emotions transferred into his lips.

 

He cupped Louis' face, letting go of his own dick to let Louis stroke him while he thumbed at Louis' lower lip, thumb-pad dragging over the skin to persuade him to open up. Louis moaned in his throat and gave into his silent demand, Harry's tongue dipping into his mouth to sweep against his.

 

It was like warm honey and wicked sin kissing him. It felt so familiar and yet brand new at the same time; skin alight at the contact; heart thrashing wildly in his chest. Louis ached to kiss him back as hotly; as passionately as Harry kissed him but he felt weak despite his solid strength.

 

He quickened his strokes over him; feeling Harry’s body heat as he pressed into him; hot breaths panting over his face.

 

“Mmm that's ah...that’s-“

 

Louis’ face was framed by gentle reverent fingers; cradling his jaw as they kissed again and Harry gasped against his tongue; whining into his mouth as he came; slick release spurting over his hand.

 

Louis smirked at the victory, stroking him gently through his orgasm.

 

“My turn,” Harry told him in a desire-slurred voice, slipping his hand into Louis’ own swim shorts to tighten long fingers around him until Louis too, lost his breath and hit his high.

 

“I just want to fucking kiss you all night long,” Harry told him as Louis lifted his chin, blinking Harry into focus after his intense release.

 

He didn’t have much of a mind left to argue.

 

“It’s not even eleven a.m.,” he managed to murmur.

 

Harry snorted, dimple creasing into his cheek.

 

“Mid-morning cuddles are out of the question then,” he mumbled, carefully untangling himself from Louis’ arms. He almost over-balanced in the water as he took a step back.

 

Louis reached for him and slid his arm around his waist.

 

“Take it easy, Bambi,” he teased. “We both know how accident prone you are when I’m not around…”

 

Harry’s smile softened as he huffed a laugh with a muttered ‘Whatever, Lou’. Louis helped him out of the pool.


	15. Chapter 15

_ Chapter 15 _

 

“So what positions are we left with?” Harry asked audaciously while Louis tried to concentrate on the lap-top he was using in Harry’s library while Harry sat in an antique upholstered chair, flipping through the daily papers.

 

Louis was looking at floating devices for Harry to use in the pool so that he could strengthen his legs by kicking without having to use his arms. He was also looking at a gym ball and some ankle weights.

 

He shut the laptop screen and watched Harry smirking into his broadsheet.

 

He cleared his throat.

 

“You need to be careful not to put too much weight on the joint so going on your front probably isn’t advised for a week or two.”

 

“On my back then,” Harry looked up with an innocent smile. “Think of England?”

 

Louis pursed his lips, eyes crinkling as he softened into a smile, cheeks warming.

 

“There’s something else?” Harry enquired curiously, catching something in Louis’ embarrassment.

 

“Well there’s-“ He rolled his eyes, flopping back in the big office chair that was so high his feet didn’t touch the ground.

 

“There’s what, Lou?” Harry prompted. “Come on, don’t be shy…”

 

“On your side,” Louis rushed it out quietly. “You know…if you laid on your good side and—”

 

Harry’s brow rose, lips tugging into a salacious grin.

 

“You don’t say…”

 

Louis went back to his laptop.

 

“I’m trying to order you things to make you feel better,” he grumbled lightly, avoiding his keen gaze.

 

“Sure, Lou,” Harry laughed quietly to himself while Louis forced himself to focus.

 

“Do you want a strap-on support for your shoulder?” Louis asked over the desk.

 

 “You’re the expert,” Harry answered warmly. “You tell me. Do I need a strap on?”

 

Louis swallowed hard. Harry was a good size, bigger than average and bigger than any of his previous boyfriends. But he would rather burn in hell than give him the satisfaction of stroking his ego.

 

“Can we focus on sports equipment now and we’ll move onto sex toys when we’re done,” Louis suggested sarcastically.

 

Harry’s eyes only glowed at the reference though, lips parting to reveal his big white teeth.

 

“We could be here all day in that case,” he grinned.

 

Louis flicked a bemused look at him, momentarily insecure. Did Harry feel they needed sex toys already? They’d barely gotten a chance to enjoy each other without anything to stimulate their desire.

 

“If that’s what you like then we can have a look,” Louis replied stoically.

 

Harry tilted his head, his fringe which had been poking up now flopping to one side.

 

“Lou…”

 

Louis sucked his lower lip, smarting pain in his chest.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Louis,” Harry flopped his paper against his thighs, the rustling supposed to make Louis look up.

 

He clicked the items into the basket that he needed from Amazon and used Harry’s account to pay; checking the prices to make sure he wasn’t spending too much of his money. ~~~~

Harry had never talked about his wealth- about how much of it he had- other than to assure Louis he could afford to never work again and still support them both in a life of continued luxury. ~~~~

But that didn’t mean Louis felt comfortable using his accounts frivolously, even to purchase items Harry needed to recover.

 

He clicked into a new tab and typed in a website address he knew Harry would love if he had a thing for toys. Louis’ ex-ex boyfriend had also had a penchant for kinky accessories and they stocked every toy known to man.

 

Harry got up; newspaper fluttering to the floor as he padded closer in his pink socks, soft worn grey jeans underneath a cosy looking dark knitted jumper. Louis pretended not to see him advancing from the corner of his eye; scrolling through the selection of toys and opening a page of glittery gel dildos for Harry to peruse.

 

Maybe they felt better than Louis did? He’d used one that first night, open to the idea. He didn’t understand why now he was having such a hard time with it, stomach knotting tightly and heart thudding heavily in his chest.

 

Harry’s body slid between him and the desk, his ass and thigh perching on the edge; gentle fingers shutting the computer screen without even looking at it.

 

“Lou,” he said again, eyes searching over his hunched form.

 

Louis swallowed.

 

“It’s okay if you want to use something,” he promised quietly.

 

Harry chuckled raspily, not humoured but acidic and disbelieving.

 

“I want _you_ ,” he answered candidly. “Did you just hear me asking about how you can fuck me?”

 

Louis let his lips twist in a wry smile.

 

“I’m waiting for you to decide if you can forgive me,” Harry added, sounding almost uncertain himself. “And that’s not a dig and I’m not rushing you, I just-“ He swallowed, fingers venturing outwards to tug at Louis’ sleeve hem. “I don’t want to get too far into this without knowing for sure.”

 

_I don’t think I could cope with you leaving me again._

Louis let out a breath. He watched Harry’s fingers pluck at his long sleeve top playfully and smiled faintly. His smile faded.

 

Harry was afraid. He was afraid that Louis would change his mind; that he didn’t feel the same and that his acceptance of his betrayal was a decision he might regret and rescind at any time.

 

Louis stared at him and wondered who had hurt him so badly that he had to second guess everything and he hoped it wasn’t him; and how he’d walked out.

 

“I’m sorry,” Louis whispered.

 

Harry’s fingers let go of his sleeve. He leaned away, bum sliding off the desk.

 

“Oh,” he ploughed his fingers into his nest of hair; turning away quickly before Louis could catch the emotion on his face.

 

“No,” Louis frowned, pushing the chair back and jumping out of it to follow Harry, curling his fingers around his elbow. “Not that kind of sorry,” he promised, circling Harry to stand before him.

 

Harry looked at him warily, lip jutted sulkily.

 

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he implored.

 

“Shh,” Louis circled his wrist with warm fingers. “Hear me out…”

 

Harry nodded, biting his lip.

 

“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt me,” Louis offered. “I’m sorry that you might be standing there wondering about whether I’m staying this time. I’m sorry that you’re worrying I might _not_ ,” he added breathlessly. “I’m sorry that somebody hurt you. I’m sorry if it was me. I’m sorry that you have to build your trust in me back up while carrying a fear I might knock it down again…”

 

Harry blinked at him, tears sheening his eyes. He swallowed a few times; throat tight and aching while he licked his numb lips.

 

“It wasn’t you,” is what he managed to croak out.

 

Louis captured his other wrist, gently. Harry stared at him with a sigh.

 

“It wasn’t you that hurt me,” he clarified.

 

Louis nodded, thumbs soothing over his skin.

 

“The rest still stands,” Louis promised.

 

Harry’s lips pulled up in one corner.

 

“That was a very soppy speech, Tomlinson…hope you’re not going to make a habit of it.”

 

Harry’s sniffles softened his teasing words and Louis curled him into his arms; hugging him tightly. It was easy to forget he was only nineteen; a baby to the world in most people’s eyes but Louis knew his lifestyle had made him mature more quickly. But still, it hovered at the back of his mind.

 

“I promise I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

 

“Thank you,” Harry winced as he lifted his arms to fold them around Louis’ shoulders.

 

“Harry?”

 

“Hmm,” his cheek was already finding a home on his shoulder.

 

“I’m…I’m twenty-eight,” he whispered with a gulp.

 

“I know,” Harry mumbled against his top.

 

“But you’re…you’re uh…”

 

Harry lifted his head, fringe flopping into place.

 

“Am I too young for you?” He asked suddenly, wide-eyed.

 

Louis grasped his wrists again as if he might take flight.

 

“Am _I_ too old for _you_?” He turned the question around.

 

“I pretty much just asked you to fuck me,” Harry derided dryly. “Don’t you think if your age was an issue for me that I might have brought it up before now?”

 

Louis nodded, thumbs pressing into his pulse points.

 

“Then let’s stop playing games?” Louis suggested quietly.

 

Harry stepped in closer to kiss him; groan ravaged from his throat.

 

//

 

“Lou?”

 

Harry’s fingers tousled his hair tenderly as Louis’ cheek laid on his chest; on his good-shoulder side. They’d made love the way Louis had suggested, curled up like spoons and it had been intimate and sensual and it almost felt like they’d never been apart.

 

Harry’s deep-toned query had Louis’ heart-rate spiking worriedly.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“What did Victor do to you?”

 

The question had been asked amid their fight when Louis had tried to break free of Harry’s hold.

 

Louis splayed his hand over Harry’s butterfly, fingertip exploring his second set of nipples affectionately.

 

“He hit me a couple of times,” Louis replied plainly.

 

Harry went to sit up but Louis was weighing him down. Harry's hand curled over his arm; achingly tender.

 

“I scared you,” he said, knowingly. “When I tried to stop you from leaving.”

 

Louis glanced up to catch his furrowed brow and pouted lips. He fingered the hair that led from his belly button downwards, pinching the soft strands gently between finger and thumb. The tug seemed to cause Harry to shift his legs restlessly.

 

“I-“ Louis sighed, sliding his hand across Harry’s torso to hug his waist. “It’s not your fault.”

 

“I don’t want to be like him,” Harry ground out. “I don’t want to remind you of him…”

 

Louis frowned, propping up to look Harry in the face. He shifted to lean over him to kiss against his pouted lips.

 

“The whole thing was-“ He swallowed, searching for words. “I was in that headspace, you know? That you’d done _exactly_ what Victor had done and I wasn’t thinking straight,” he explained, kissing him again.

 

Harry closed his eyes and kissed him back, softly.

 

“I’m sorry that I scared you.”

 

“You scared me when you got hurt,” Louis chided gently with a subtle upturn of his lips. “That’s the most fucking scared I’ve ever been…”

 

“That’s just stupid,” Harry huffed with a dismissive eye-roll.

 

“And then I get here and I find out you asked for Niall,” he added teasingly, fingers rippling on Harry’s side in a semi-tickle. He knew not to set him off too hard so as not to jog his shoulder.

 

Harry twisted at the sensitive touch; smile burgeoning.

 

“You wouldn’t talk to me,” Harry accused back breathily. “Who else was I supposed to call?”

 

Louis blinked slowly, smile fading.

 

“I should have let you talk.”

 

“You did,” Harry replied, green eyes fastening on him as he laid beside Louis almost boy-like in his twisted pose.

 

“Not soon enough,” Louis lamented.

 

Harry reached for his hand and brought it to his lips, brushing his lower lip with Louis’ thumb-pad.

 

“Better late than never.”

 

Louis gave him a wry smile.

 

“If you say so, kitten.”

 

Louis pulled his spirit hood off the bedside table and tugged it over Harry’s wild hair, cupping his face reverently as he looked at him. He had so much still to say, so many emotions to describe and find words to do justice for.

 

“Lou…”

 

Louis flicked his eyes to Harry as the younger man pressed his hand against his thudding heart.

 

“I love you,” Harry told him with a swallow, brow furrowing worriedly. His fingers clenched Louis’ almost nervously to his chest like he might actually let go.

 

Louis felt tears fill his eyes at the heart-breaking realisation that Harry was still afraid, even now. He was afraid of losing Louis.

 

“Baby, I love you too,” he kissed the bow of his lips sweetly. “Always have.”

 

Harry stared at him confusedly, tongue venturing out to lick over his swollen lips.

 

“Not _always_ ,” he managed to accuse in a rough voice, the arm around him tightening to keep him close.

 

Louis shrugged in concession.

 

“Well there may have been a few days I didn’t _like_ you,” he mused. “But I always _loved_ you,” he added.

 

Harry’s smile was small and broken and Louis had never seen his eyes shine the way they did in that moment; bright and full of unbridled hope.

 

“You’re really coming home?” He asked, taking a fortifying breath.

 

Louis smiled as Harry rolled towards him, knee sliding between his own as he kissed him long enough for Louis to sneak his fingers under the hat to sink into his silky hair.

 

“If you’ll have me,” Louis whispered against his lips when Harry pulled back to brush their noses together affectionately; green eyes crossed cutely in focus.

 

Harry kissed him again; hand shifting to take his weight.

 

“Ah!” Louis gently pushed against his chest and rolled with him; landing on top of him to protect his shoulder in the fall. “No weight on your shoulder yet,” he chided.

 

Harry’s eyes crinkled and his cheeks creased in happiness as he pulled Louis down into another long kiss.

 

//

 

“Okay, let’s see if this works…”

 

Louis had left the skate-boarding until Harry could wear a strapped support on his shoulder; slowly building up his strength with his set exercises.

 

He’d taken over the tennis court for their trial, toeing himself along on the board experimentally while Zayn and Liam chatted in the corner; flipping their boards with their toes while they laughed.

 

“I feel we’re being upstaged,” Harry told him as Louis circled back to where he stood; waiting for Louis’ return.

 

“The board passes my safety requirements,” Louis smiled at him.

 

Harry’s gaze flicked from Louis to the other two men pointedly. Louis followed his line of vision. Zayn was definitely flirting, Louis knew his body language well enough by now. He couldn’t help his smile.

 

“That’s cute…”

 

“ _We’re_ cute,” Harry argued.

 

Louis looked at him bemusedly.

 

“Well, you’re the cute one,” he teased.

 

Harry rolled his eyes but took Louis’ hand and stepped onto the board, letting out a squeak when the board tilted a bit forwards, his body almost falling backwards off it.

 

Louis caught him and stopped the board with his foot.

 

“You need to try harder than that,” he laughed.

 

Harry narrowed his eyes at him.

 

“You’re supposed to _teach_ me,” he accused.

 

“Thought you had a cabin in Aspen?” Louis replied. “Don’t tell me you’ve never gone snowboarding.”

 

“Been a while,” Harry mumbled. “Had a few falls since then…”

 

Harry had stepped off the board when Louis had rescued him and Louis pulled him close, kissing his sullen lips.

 

“Want to try roller skates instead?” He offered.

 

Harry frowned.

 

“No, I’ll go with this, first,” he decided.

 

Louis put his foot in front of the wheels to stop the board from moving before Harry got on it this time.

 

“Right, come on, Princess, hop on,” Louis invited, holding his hand once more.

 

Harry gave him a long look, arching a brow.

 

“Save that for later, Tomlinson,” he murmured in a husky voice.

 

Louis felt his groin respond in kind to that tone; a pitch he was most used to hearing gasped against his ear. His mind went wild with the connotations of Harry riding him; straddling his lap. He definitely did _not_ think about how it would feel; his heavy weight pressing down on him and his beautiful, tattooed skin bare to his touch.

 

His body tingled in interest; dick stirring into life.

 

“You want to out-do them by getting me hard?” Louis murmured as he steadied Harry while he tentatively toed himself along.

 

“At least it would make two of us,” Harry derided and Louis couldn’t help the way his gaze focused between Harry’s thick, jeaned thighs. His dick normally sat proudly under the denim but there was a definite ridge visible when Harry snuck up the edge of his bright yellow jumper to show him the proof of his claim.

 

Louis almost sent them both toppling; wrapping arms tightly around Harry’s middle to stop his fall.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, waiting for Harry to find ground under his conversed feet.

 

Harry chuckled and hugged him close, nosing into his hair.

 

“Careful now, Lou. Wouldn’t want to injure me further, would you?”

 

“Why are you even-“ he gulped back his question.

 

He really didn’t need to know.

 

“Told you,” Harry replied in a thick voice, rubbing a hand over his back. “You’re sexy.”

 

Louis huffed out a breath and relaxed into the hug; reassured that this didn’t have to go anywhere. Their friends were mere feet away watching them with happy smiles while they embraced and Louis truly wanted to help Harry reclaim his balance.

 

He pulled away and let Harry kiss him slowly, tongue flicking against his in precious appreciation. He moaned in his throat as he kissed him back equally soft and slow.

 

“Darlings!”

 

The high-pitched female voice broke them apart guiltily.

 

 _Shit_.

 

“Mum?” Harry twisted; Louis still in his arms as his mother glided across the court to greet them.

 

Harry reluctantly broke his embrace with Louis to hug his mother.

 

“Um, what are you doing here?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck with a flush high on his cheeks.

 

“Your father sailed off to Rio,” she rolled her eyes. “I came to check on you…”

 

Anne’s gaze shifted curiously to the shorter man beside Harry. She knew full well who he was but she looked to Harry pointedly to introduce her.

 

“Oh…um…this is…Louis,” he managed to find the words. “This is my mother Anne.”

 

Louis stepped forward to offer his hand.

 

“Mrs. Styles,” he bowed his head with a hesitant smile.

 

“Mum, this is-“

 

“I know who he is,” Anne batted him away; stepping closer to pull Louis into a hug. “Hello, sweetie. I’m Harry’s mother. Please call me Anne…”

 

Louis blinked at her, speechless.

 

“Sure…okay…” he frowned, flicking Harry a look.

 

Harry smiled wanly, avoiding his curious gaze. Louis didn’t know _how_ Anne knew him but Harry didn’t want to have that conversation right now, or maybe ever.

 

“She knows,” he breathed in semi-explanation of her friendliness.

 

Louis’ eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he looked back at the older lady; a female version of Harry with her dark, wavy hair and dimpled smile.

 

She laughed at his surprise.

 

“It’s alright, Louis,” she assured. “You make my son happy, even I can see that.”

 

Louis swallowed, eyes flicking to see where Liam and Zayn had got to but neither man was in the vicinity any more.

 

“What’s all this,” Anne gestured to the abandoned skateboards.

 

“Balance session,” Harry told her, clearing his throat.

 

He fidgeted a bit, hand subtly tugging at the front of his jeans when Anne wasn’t looking.

 

“Oh, how lovely!” She beamed. “You’re feeling better then, darling?”

 

Harry stared at her, lips twisting.

 

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded.

 

Anne looked at Louis and cupped his cheek, surprising him. He smiled at her loving touch, curling a hand around her arm.

 

“You take wonderful care of him, don’t you?”

 

Louis blinked shy eyes down to his toes, letting his lips quirk up a bit.

 

“I try to,” he offered quietly.

 

Harry glanced at Louis and then his mother.

 

“Louis’ going to be staying with me at the house,” he shared then. “Just in case you decide to drop by.”

 

Anne winked at him.

 

“I should call in advance then, hm?”

 

Harry blinked at her wanly.

 

“I think we can-“

 

“I know what it’s like,” Anne broke her contact with Louis and moved to hug Harry. “Honeymoon phase….Have fun with your little wheel-boards,” she gestured around them before turning with a happy wave behind her.

 

Harry stood for a moment after she had gone and sucked in a breath.

 

“So that’s my Mum,” he stated.

 

Louis tilted back on his heels with a rueful smirk.

 

“Nice gal,” he decided. “Think we’ll get along…”

 

Harry gave him an amused smile and walked back to where the skateboard had stopped. He waited for Louis to stopper it with his foot before climbing back on.

 

“The sooner we get this over with, the better…”

 

//

 

“Loser!” Harry roared; lifting both arms in a victorious cheer as he crossed the line before Louis; long body commandeering his board easily under dexterous feet.

 

“Cheat!” Louis accused as he skidded his board to a halt.

 

Harry curved his gently around and stepped off, flipping it up to catch it in his fingers with a smug swagger.

 

“Admit it, Lou, I’m the better skateboarder…”

 

“You pushed me off!” Louis blustered, gesturing behind him to the court where Harry had indeed; given him a gentle shove to put him off his course.

 

He’d managed to redeem himself without falling but he’d come in second to Harry’s crowing first.

 

“I don’t recall any such thing,” Harry denied audaciously with a grin. “Must have been the wind that usurped you…”

 

Louis charged at him; wrapping both arms around his waist to tackle him gently against the wired enclosure; both of them dropping their boards as they grappled; Harry clutching his shoulder with a pout to cease Louis’ attack.

 

Louis paused immediately.

 

“You okay?” He checked.

 

Harry let go of his arm with a knowing glint in his eyes; lips turned up in one corner as he folded his arms around Louis’ shoulders.

 

“I’m dandy,” he assured. “I won.”

 

Louis bit away a smile at his fake-hurt ploy to avoid being wrestled.

 

“I see you play dirty,” he observed.

 

Harry leaned down to breathe against his ear.

 

“How dirty do you like it?”

 

Louis groaned and curled a hand around his neck to tug him into a kiss; his fingertips flicking into the ends of his hair and surging up into its softness. When they lost balance and teetered precariously against the chain fence; Louis broke the kiss to get them both safely inside the house.

 

//

 

“Lou….holy _Jesus_ …”

 

If Harry was having a divine experience, Louis felt like he was right there with him. He’d made Harry wear a sling after their boisterous afternoon but Harry had untied it in the shower. Harry climbed into his lap on the sofa in his room; Louis stumbling backwards to sit in it once they’d left the shower, naked and wet.

 

It didn’t take much to have Harry sinking down onto his heat after twisting fingers into him and kissing him hotly. Louis hadn’t stopped kissing him since they’d got under the faucet, truth be told.

 

“So, so good,” Harry breathed; clenching around him as he sank down low enough to take him deep.

 

“Angel, don’t-“ Louis gasped as Harry thumbed over his nipple, gripping his bicep hard enough to leave a mark.

 

Harry seemed to like Louis’ arms. Louis had no mind to question it.

 

“Don’t what,” Harry growled, working his hips to catch his rim against Louis’ thickness. “Fuck… _yeah_ ,” his eyes squeezed shut as his head fell back.

 

“Fucking slow down,” Louis begged huskily. “Hush,” he added afterwards pleadingly.

 

“Hush?” Harry groaned; circling his hips to take more of him. “You’re telling me to hush?”

 

His eyes popped open and one brow arched. His fingers tightened into the back of Louis’ hair to angle his face for a kiss; lips sucking eagerly for purchase. Harry moaned in his throat and Louis blacked out for a second; sure he had come. When he opened his eyes Harry was staring at him intently with pupil-blown eyes and kiss-ravaged lips, his tongue lathing over them suggestively.

 

“Baby, easy,” He gripped his waist to help alleviate the pressure on his hip.

 

“Doesn’t hurt,” Harry smirked, eyes glittering. “Don’t ruin it,” he added gruffly.

 

Louis still took as much of his weight as he could, tugging Harry when he slid down; arms bulging to lift Harry up when he eased away. Harry’s thighs flexed either side of him; shaking with the strain of holding himself up.

 

Louis wrapped the hand of his bad arm around his bicep- as Harry liked to- and wrapped his other arm around his shoulders; pressing one hand against his lower back supportively as he brought him down at a different angle.

 

“Like that?” Louis mumbled against his lips as Harry whimpered. “That feel good?”

 

He split his fingers around Harry’s hole; feeling himself sliding in and out, his head falling back as he cried out in pleasured disbelief.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, stomach tightening familiarly with desire.

 

“Lou, oh god,” Harry let his bad arm release; hanging gently by his side as he rode his high; grinding down onto Louis’ heat to take it all; taking everything he offered and more from his mouth besides.

 

They came together; Harry spurting over Louis’ chest and Louis releasing hotly into Harry’s body; Harry’s cry of surprise bringing an instant sinking feeling into Louis’ belly.

 

 _Shit_.

 

He’d forgotten to slip on a condom.

 

The lube had been right there, rolled down the side of the sofa but-

 

“I’m clean,” he quickly gasped against Harry’s shoulder; clutching him close. “Baby, I promise you, I’m clean…”

 

And Harry must have known, he must have-

 

Harry cupped his face and kissed him, still a bit breathless; skin burning hot while they embraced; still connected but sticky with semen now between them.

 

“I love you,” Harry told him when he broke the kiss. “Louis, I-“

 

“Love you too, Angel,” Louis kissed him sweetly, blinking into his unfocused green eyes.

 

Harry hitched his hips a bit; a smirk lazily pulling at his lips.

 

“Need to shower again.”

 

“Let’s not repeat this scene,” Louis begged.

 

Harry arched a brow, easing off of Louis’ dick.

 

“I mean…I could go again,” he teased.

 

Louis helped him to stand, Harry’s hip mostly healed now. Harry flashed his bare backside to him with a wiggle. Louis tried not to notice the glistening remains of his release sticking to Harry’s inner thighs.

 

“You forget you picked an old man to date,” Louis teased as he pushed himself to his feet.

 

Harry caught him in a gentle cuddle, smudging a kiss to his mouth.

 

“To love,” he corrected softly in a deep voice. “I picked an old man to _love_.”

 

Louis was distracted into kissing him again.

 

Their shower would have to wait.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All!  
> I am still having internet issues so apologies for the slow updates, sometimes I post a chapter five times and it keeps crashing :/  
> Hope you are still enjoying this.
> 
> Ang

_C_ _h apter 16_

 

“Don’t kill me,” Harry said, scooping up a spoonful of granola to crunch on the big mouth-full in his alluring way.

 

Louis wondered if his upbringing included table manners and had a suspicion Harry saved his filthy eating technique for him only.

 

“Why would I kill you?” He wondered.

 

“Well…I booked us some flights,” Harry ventured, peeking up from his bowl.

 

He had on a soft black beanie and a black jumper; blue jeans with his brown suede boots. He looked softer like this. He looked _younger._

“Flights where?” Louis asked.

 

“Aspen,” Harry answered, tonguing his food around his mouth suggestively.

 

Louis watched with rapt attention. Harry had tongued his balls in much the same way last night and his body ached from the love they’d made after.

 

“Okay,” he agreed easily. “When do we go?”

 

Harry smirked.

 

“You remember me telling you about the lodge I have over there?”

 

Louis blinked, realising he needed to pay attention to the conversation instead of getting carried away with staring hypnotically at Harry’s lips. He looked into his mirthful green eyes.

 

“I remember. I was going to get a holiday there,” he smiled of their teasing conversation about the lodge.

 

“Right. Well, here’s your holiday,” Harry shrugged.

 

Louis finished his food and considered the man across the table.

 

“You don’t have to take me anywhere, you know.”

 

Harry hummed.

 

“I know. But I thought we could try some skiing and maybe a bit of snowboarding before I move onto rollerskates…”

 

Louis’ brows lifted.

 

The fact that Harry was moving his training onto something more challenging almost made him breathless with pride. Up until now he’d mostly nudged him in the right direction, sometimes dragging him into things at the start of their working relationship.

 

“That’s brilliant,” he managed to emote in a gentle voice without whooping loudly. His grin was kind of irrepressible though. “We can tape up your shoulder  so you can still move it, but it’ll be supported in case you fall on your arm,” he offered.

 

“I won’t fall,” Harry stated confidently with a little purse of his lips.

 

“I’ve heard that before,” Louis murmured.

 

Harry dropped his spoon into his bowl noisily and flopped back in his seat; twining his fingers behind his head and wincing a bit at the stretch in his shoulder.

 

“So, you’re coming?” He checked.

 

Louis bit his lip against his excited smile.

 

“Yeah…yeah, I’m coming,” he confirmed.

 

//

 

Aspen was beautiful.

 

From the moment Louis exited the plane he breathed in the clean, crisp air and lifted his face toward the bright, light sun in the cloudless sky.

 

Once they got into their hired vehicle he looked out the window and drank in the mountain-filled scenery; small wooden houses and huts lining the way to Harry’s cabin. ~~~~

He’d had the place stocked ready for their visit; stove fire alight and warming the cold space against the nip of frost.

 

It had snowed the night before. Their flight almost got delayed because of it. ~~~~

Louis looked over at Harry as he drove; singing along to the radio in his husky voice. He looked young and beautiful and for once he looked carefree; not worried about who was watching him leave the confines of his safe-place; his home.

 

Louis hadn’t seen much of this side of the younger man; hadn’t had the chance to kick back with him in a way that most people took for granted in a relationship. They’d already covered hard ground and Louis wanted Harry to feel like this always; full of blinding light.

 

“You watching me, Tomlinson?” Harry’s dimple flashed as he cast a look over Louis, brow arched.

 

Louis smiled.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Harry’s brows shot up together, not expecting his honesty.

 

Louis smiled smugly to himself, glancing out of the window. Harry’s hand reached across, his fingers slipped around his wrist; pulling Louis’ hand back into his lap.

 

Louis looked over; hand curving around Harry’s thigh automatically while Harry took the wheel again. He dipped his gaze to Harry’s crotch and decided not to risk a road accident by teasing him while he drove.

 

Harry started singing again, louder this time, with a bigger smile on his face.

 

//

 

“Do we have to start on the kiddy slope?” Harry pouted, pulling on a deerstalker style hat with fur lining. He pulled up the hood to his bright orange snow-suit, too, tugging on his thick gloves while the ski poles dangled from his wrists.

 

He looked dashing in his snow gear, all handsome face, bright smile and dark glasses.

 

Louis felt a bit like a child himself, waddling around in his smaller sized suit.

 

“It’s safer for your first run,” Louis told him.

 

Harry befriended a little boy and started off with him, Louis trailing with an eye roll behind them both.

 

//

 

Harry skied really well.

 

He had good posture and natural grace that Louis knew was borne of years of dancing on ice. He was unsure at first; tentative and cautious but with the help of nine-year-old Joseph, he soon found his rhythm and gave the boy confidence by convincing him that he was in fact the one teaching Harry how to ski.

 

Louis didn’t mind them pairing up. He oversaw each down-hill run and accompanied Harry and Joseph on the cable-car ride back up; keeping himself to himself.

 

He might have imagined a slightly different variation of how the day panned out; possibly featuring snow-bitten kisses and snow-suit cuddles but-

 

Well, he wasn’t going to complain. He was Harry’s _guest_.

 

After lunch with Joseph’s family they took to the easiest adult course and Louis lost Harry halfway down the mountain; waiting for him only to find he had struck up conversation with a pretty blonde female skier.

 

He rolled his eyes. _Typical_.

 

Louis decided to carry on with his loops; heading onto the intermediate slope when it seemed clear Harry was happy to spend the day in other people’s company.

 

It was strange for Louis, being on the edge of a situation he wasn’t familiar with. He and Harry had been holed up at the house for so long now, he had forgotten what it was like to go outside and actually meet people.

 

He hadn’t talked to anyone else since they’d arrived (not counting Joseph and his family) and he felt almost envious of Harry’s ability to do sowithout anxieties filling his head.

 

Louis considered it might take him a bit longer to overcome the effects of Victor’s betrayal. He had found love again but he hadn’t found trust, yet. He had to put himself back out in the world and let people get to know him and it wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

 

He headed back to base in the late afternoon; cold wind setting in now the sun was dropping in the sky. He couldn’t wait to find Harry and unwrap him from his snow-suit to treat him to fancy hot-chocolate at the nearby resort; maybe getting some dinner there before driving back to the cabin for the night.

 

Louis’ stomach tightened at the thought of spending the night with Harry in the wilderness, nobody else around them to hear their cries of passion and hopefully; their shared laughter.

 

He smiled at the warmth blooming in his chest and recognised it as a flush of attraction; almost like Harry was his crush. Maybe he was, he mused. Maybe he could be a fanciful day-dream along with being his real-life sweetheart. Maybe he could-

 

Louis skidded to a stop on the packed snow; pulling his goggles down around his neck.

 

_Was_ _Harry was flirting with the ski-instructor?_

 

Louis frowned, noting the body language between Harry ( _his_ Harry) and the slightly taller man; strappingly broad and athletic-looking. Louis swallowed down a tranche of insecurity and slowly made his way over.

 

Harry was giggling at something the man-mountain said; hand curled around his forearm to steady himself as he flushed prettily; goggles perched attractively atop his fluffy hat.

 

“Hey,” Louis greeted quietly when the taller, unknown man flicked his gaze to him.

 

“Louis, there you are!” Harry grinned.

 

And—

 

 _Louis_?

 

Louis flicked Harry a narrowed-eyed look.

 

“Yeah, here I am…”

 

“Steven was just telling me how he once slipped off the edge of the mountain over there and still landed on two skis!” Harry recounted happily. “Was worried you’d gone over the edge but not landed as safely,” he added with a smirk.

 

“Right,” Louis nodded. _Because he wasn’t as accomplished, of course._

Harry carried on smiling at him cluelessly; brows lifting.

 

“Everything okay?”

 

Louis pasted on a smile.

 

“Sure. Everything is great.” _Everything_ _is fucking great._

 

Harry’s gaze lingered on him and Louis flicked his eyes away to look down the mountain.

 

“Did you want to get a hot drink before we head back?” Louis asked, pretending he didn’t have envy clawing at his insides.

 

It was an ugly emotion and he’d never come off well when he’d admitted his insecurities to previous boyfriends so he decided not to tempt fate and start now.

 

“Ah, well Steven said he’s got a slow-roast on,” Harry ventured. “Said we could go and eat at his if we liked…have a hot-toddy and-“

 

Harry paused, licking his lips.

 

Louis couldn’t decline the offer without looking rude; or even worse, looking like a party-pooper. He would hate to hold Harry back and for Harry to think he was a boring drag to have around on holiday so he sucked in a breath and pushed down every voice screaming in his head not to do this.

 

It was dinner at a guy’s house. Nothing weird about it. Nothing unusual.

 

Louis flicked his eyes over the pair, taking in Harry’s hopeful smile and Steven’s polite one.

 

“I’d love to have you both,” Steven assured.

 

Something in Louis’ gut twisted; making him wince and leaving him breathless. It felt a lot like anxiety. He hated socialising with people he didn’t know. He hated making small talk and forcing a smile on his face when he didn’t feel like it. Even if he wasn’t sad, he sometimes looked it and people badgered him into looking happy. It made him tired and miserable. He’d rather curl up with a  book on the sofa and imagine the hundred ways he could lose Harry to a guy like Steven.

 

“I uh…” He swallowed, licking his lips and looking at his ski-tips. “I was actually just looking forward to a hot bath and an early night,” he pulled his lips into a semi-smile. “I think I went at that last slope a bit too hard, you know?”

 

Steven smiled, clearly _not_ knowing. Louis felt Harry’s gaze clinging to him.

 

“But you should go,” Louis pointed his ski-pick at Harry. “Don’t let me spoil your night. Enjoy dinner with your new friend,” he added with a twist of his lips, pausing with a frown as if to say more and then deciding to turn and ski away before either man could read the real emotion behind his eyes.

 

//

 

“Why didn’t you just say?” Harry followed after him more gracefully gliding along, easily catching him up.

 

“Say what?” Louis asked over his shoulder, then paused to twist to face him. “I thought you were going to Steven’s?”

 

Harry glared at him.

 

“You really think I’d go to dinner with a strange guy while my boyfriend sits home alone?” He queried. “On the first night of our shared holiday?” He added.

 

He was angry, Louis could tell.

 

“I didn’t see it like that,” he promised, pushing off again. “I just wanted you to enjoy your time here, irrespective of me being with you…”

 

“That’s not how it works, Louis,” Harry started after him.

 

“Why are you calling me Louis?” He turned and frowned at him, blue eyes showing his hurt.

 

Harry paused, brows furrowing.

 

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly. “I didn’t think about it, I just-“

 

“Right,” Louis nodded. “You just.”

 

“Wait, what does that mean?” Harry followed him once more as he pushed himself to get back to the resort to hand in his hired skis and suit.

 

“Nothing, Harry,” he assured. “It means nothing.”

 

“Are we fighting?” Harry asked as they unclipped their skis from their boots, climbing up onto the veranda of the resort hut to unzip their snow suits.

 

“Not that I’m aware,” Louis lied, avoiding his gaze.

 

“Oh, like fuck we aren’t,” Harry bit out as Louis carried his things into the store to sign them in.

 

Louis took his confirmation ticket and slid on his jacket; feeling cold without the thermal layers to keep him warm. Harry might have hugged him normally to warm him up. He might have kissed the taller man to warm his belly.

 

Harry stared at him as he turned from the till to button his own coat.

 

“Let’s just go home,” the younger man suggested.

 

//

 

The car-journey was tense.

 

Louis wasn’t even sure what was happening. When they’d got into the car the day before they’d been full of smiles and bright with hope and something had been left out on the slopes; popping their happy bubble.

 

He hated that he’d felt unable to fulfil Harry’s desire to eat with a stranger; to hear new stories and learn new things. He hated that he felt insanely jealous at seeing Harry laughing with a man he knew nothing about. He hated that Harry was angry with him; not really knowing why unless he asked him and that-

 

That could be a mistake, anyway. He might not want to know.

 

He let out a breath and calmed his pattering heart; choosing a route he knew ultimately worked when he’d been in conflict with Victor. _Submission_.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said; loud enough for Harry to hear over the radio which Harry had turned on after five minutes of fraught silence.

 

“What the fuck for?” Harry bit back.

 

“For not wanting to go to dinner,” he admitted.

 

Harry gritted his teeth, hands gripping tightly around the steering wheel.

 

“I don’t care about dinner, alright?”

 

“Alright,” Louis nodded, looking back out of the window.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

Harry was really mad and he still didn’t know why.

 

“I wish you’d just-“ Harry began, huffing out a breath.

 

Louis watched him pull up into the space by the cabin; switching the engine off. He waited for confirmation of what Harry wished he was. He waited for instructions on what he _should_ be, to keep him happy.

 

“Why did you tell me to go with him?” Harry asked.

 

Louis looked at him.

 

“I told you, I wanted you to enjoy yourself-“

 

“Like I wouldn’t if I stayed home with you?” Harry interrupted to make his point.

 

Louis swallowed.

 

“You came out here to enjoy your anonymity,” Louis offered quietly. “I get it. I’m not going to stop you from making friends.”

 

“And I’m not going to let you go home alone,” Harry told him, tucking his hands in his lap.

 

Louis swallowed, considering his words.

 

“Okay,” he breathed, popping the door to slide out of the car.

 

Harry frowned as Louis passed him to get to the door of the cabin.

 

“Do you understand _why_?” Harry challenged as Louis fought the voices in his head telling him that Harry wanted to end things and this was his way of doing it gently, by starting a fight.

 

After less than a day. Louis felt his stomach turn; nausea rising over him as he shivered.

 

“Can we just get indoors?” Louis mused.

 

Harry grasped his wrist and stopped him on the porch.

 

“Do you understand why, Lou?” He repeated, using his nickname. It felt deliberate now because Louis had called him on it.

 

Louis sighed, shrugging, breath billowing out.

 

“Maybe…not really…does it matter?”

 

Harry huffed, gripping his wrist tightly.

 

“We’re boyfriends now,” he started darkly. “We come as a pair; a unit. You don’t let me go to dinner with strange men on my own and I don’t let you go home alone, don’t you _get_ it?”

 

Louis peered up at him. He was angry because Louis hadn’t tried to stop him? What about Louis’ anger? The anger he’d tamped down and fought to hide; putting Harry’s wishes first?

 

“You were the one flirting,” Louis blurted, accusingly. “It’s not you that came down the mountain to find your boyfriend laughing with another guy!”

 

“You didn’t even come down the fucking mountain for me!” Harry yelled back, releasing his wrist to gesture wildly.

 

“You vanished!” Louis defended. “You were talking to everyone who came your way, what was I meant to do? Stand and watch?”

 

“You-“ Harry’s brows furrowed; his eyes darkening as he struggled to convey his thoughts. “I can’t believe you fucking thought-“

 

Harry stepped forward and cupped his jaw in his large hand; arm wrapping around Louis’ waist to pull him into his body tightly; lips surging onto Louis’ hotly, quickly followed by his tongue dipping into Louis’ mouth.

 

It was one hell of an argument and Louis couldn’t argue back; clutching onto Harry’s jacket for balance as the taller man leaned over him in the scorching kiss.

 

Louis managed to get his footing back; pushing his weight against Harry to have him stumbling gently away; back knocking into the wooden wall of the cabin where Louis pressed against him; tiptoeing to kiss him back with equal passion; determined that Harry wasn’t going to win this particular fight.

 

Harry moaned in his throat and grasped the front of Louis’ jacket to find the zip; dragging it down hastily to put his hands on him; grasping into his jumper over his chest and dragging up the thick wool to slide a hand beneath it’s shrouding material.

 

“Lou,” He breathed as Louis gripped his other wrist, the same way Harry had his; pinning him in place as he leaned against him; Harry's other hand trapped between them.

 

“Want you to be mine,” Louis murmured; wincing at how possessive that sounded. “Baby, I-“

 

He surged into another kiss; trying to stop his mouth from spilling his secrets. Harry caved to the pressure of his mouth; arms wrapping around him to welcome him into his space; thighs widening for Louis to rest between them while they kissed on the porch; braced against the side of the cabin.

 

When Louis shivered against the cold seeping into his skin where Harry had tried to bare his skin; Harry thumbed his cheek to break the kiss.

 

“Let’s go inside, Lou,” he murmured.

 

Louis tumbled into the cabin with him.

 

//

 

Clothes off; Harry stretched around three of his fingers; Louis let his eyes trail over Harry splayed out before him; his back against the big maple table while his long legs tightened around his waist.

 

He smoothed a hand over his torso; eyes glittering in the darkened room; the only light cast by the fire in the enclosed hearth; flames flickering up in pretty symbolism for their desire.

 

Harry watched him with equally intense eyes; lips licked seductively.

 

“I only want you,” Harry promised quietly.

 

Louis sank into him with the promise tucked behind his tongue.

 

 _Mine_.

 

//

 

Harry rolled in the big king bed lazily, wincing a bit as he kicked his legs about.

 

They’d made love again at twilight; when the sky was turning purple and the stars were just vanishing in wake of the sun. Louis had been gentle; knowing Harry was already sensitive and maybe a little bit bruised by their passionate first round.

 

He’d kissed Harry deeply while fucking him into the bed and it was even more claiming than taking him on the table if that was possible.

 

Harry smiled, though, creases taking over his cheeks.

 

“Hmmm…”

 

Louis combed fingers through Harry’s fringe as he rolled closer to kiss him hello.

 

“Hot bath?” Louis suggested raspily, throat dry from kissing too much.

 

“Sure,” Harry agreed easily, propping on his good elbow to kiss him deeply.

 

Louis tugged Harry from the bed and lifted him bridal-style with a grin; walking him to the old-style bathroom; twisting on the taps with one of the hands he held Harry up with.

 

Harry laughed and curled up in his arms; enjoying his strength. Louis didn’t want to let go; not even when pink water frothed temptingly to lower Harry into.

 

“Rose bath oil?” Harry breathed in the scent as Louis lowered him carefully into the warm water.

 

It stung a bit, against his rim but he schooled his face for it not to show.

 

“It was that or Mountain Dew,” Louis called over his shoulder as he moved to shave.

 

“Lou, get in here!” Harry goaded.

 

Louis shaved himself first and walked over; blatantly naked as he approached Harry who was curved almost femininely in the water. He smiled as Louis came close, lifting one foot over the edge of the bath to climb in. Harry folded his legs up against his chest until Louis had settled, knees bent and toes digging under Harry’s glutes.

 

He let Louis draw his legs out to their full length around him; hands gliding over his hairy thighs.

 

“So beautiful,” Louis told him, like so many times before. Now it seemed to mean so much more.

 

Louis had thought he had lost him to another man; so quickly after expressing how he felt and Harry’s heart clenched at the idea that Louis felt that way because someone had been careless with his love.

 

“I’m sorry,” he thumbed over Louis’ wrist gently; white foam spreading there inadvertently.

 

Louis flicked his blue eyes up, lashes dark with the moisture from the steam in the bath.

 

“I’m sorry, too.”

 

“I shouldn’t have gone off like that,” Harry accepted of his skiing adventure. “We were meant to be working together and I just…I got caught up in being outside with new people that didn’t know me.”

 

“I know,” Louis thumbed at his inner thigh- nearly solid with sinew now.

 

“And you’re right…I _was_ flirting,” he sighed. “But not because I wanted to be with him,” he added quickly in reassurance.

 

Louis pressed his lips together, sliding them back and forth as he avoided Harry’s gaze.

 

“I didn’t like watching you flirt with another guy,” Louis admitted with a grit of his teeth.

 

“I know,” Harry returned his acceptance at Louis’ confession.

 

“The last thing I wanted to was spend a whole night watching you do it.”

 

“I wouldn’t have,” Harry assured. “It was just-it was stupid,” he shrugged.

 

“Is that what-“ Louis swallowed down his question, the backs of his fingers trailing over Harry’s laurels on his once-bad hip.

 

“Is that..?” Harry frowned, thumbing away some foam on his cheek.

 

“Did you have to make your last boyfriend jealous to get his attention?” Louis wondered then.

 

Harry’s chest filled with lead; a heavy knowing weight laying upon his lungs. _Fuck_. He _had_. The hockey player- _the jock_ \- had made him compete for his affections. The same way he had to compete for his father’s attention by winning trophies. It was—

 

It was his way of earning love, wasn’t it? And he hadn’t even known. But Louis _had_.

 

“Yes,” Harry answered on a tight throat, swallowing hard as Louis’ eyes met his.

 

Louis held his gaze, licking his lips.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Louis whispered, thumbing over his hip.

 

Harry knew that, He knew it and yet-

 

He tried to wriggle in the small space to get close enough to kiss him; his long legs not bending enough to allow it but Louis saw him struggling and smiled patiently; carefully getting to his knees to lean across and cup his face; kissing him with the kind of sweetness that Harry definitely didn’t feel he deserved.

 

“Baby, you’re my number one, alright?” Louis promised.

 

Harry nodded with wide eyes; hands pressing against Louis’ chest now he had the chance.

 

“Want to cuddle in bed for a while?” Louis smirked.

 

Harry laughed; tipping back his head as his smile went fond.

 

“I’d love to…”

 

//

 

Louis spooned Harry with a secure arm over his side, hand creeping under his t-shirt to splay against his belly the way Harry liked. 

 

They slept like that the next two nights; days filled with exhausting activity and nights gently easing with soft conversation and laughter just as they'd become accustomed to at the mansion.

 

Louis didn't feel the need to fuck Harry every waking moment they shared together. He enjoyed just kissing him slowly and curling up on the sofa with Harry between his thighs; head nestled in his lap.

 

When Louis needed comfort Harry would switch places easily and hug him tightly against his chest. The wooden hut became a new safe haven for them; private and secluded.

 

They made friends slowly.  They had hot alcoholic drinks with the resort barman and dinner with an elderly couple Harry grew fond of. They didn't seem to mind their intimate touches and shared, secret looks.

 

Sometimes when Harry was telling Mildred about his skating prowess Louis wanted to lay him out on the rug in front of the fire and remind him what it felt like to be someone's whole world.

 

Harry deserved to know how that felt.

 

Louis did lay him out on the rug one night. It was after they'd had Irish coffees and late-night desserts at the resort. It was after Harry had danced around the cabin in some skimpy black boxer briefs that Louis needed to take off. It was after kissing him and fisting him off that Louis turned him over; chest and tummy brushing into the fur with a pleased noise.

 

Harry was heavy with his post orgasm satedness, throat thick with desire from his release when Louis parted his cheeks and licked into him; forcing him to writhe into the soft rug weakly.

 

"Don't you fucking _dare_ ," he whispered, trying to twist away.

 

Louis smirked.

 

He would dare. He would dare quite gladly. He flicked his tongue against his rim and rutted against the back of Harry's thigh when he groaned in response.

 

"Fuck," Harry mumbled. 

 

"Hard again already?" Louis stroked his hair.

 

Harry swallowed, meekly shaking his head. Louis pressed the tip of his tongue inside him, kissing his ass cheek. The muscle quivered and Louis knew he was lying. 

 

"Is this okay," he breathed against his ass; stroking down his back and rubbing himself against Harry's knee again with a rut of his hips.

 

"More than," Harry strangled out.

 

Louis licked into him; flickering his tongue and licking around his rim teasingly when Harry got too loud.

 

"What will the neighbours think?" Louis leaned back to stroke himself; squeezing Harry's behind gently.

 

"Please," Harry gasped; writhing against the rug helplessly.

 

Louis shuffled close on his knees; circling two gentle fingertips around the tight muscle before twisting them inside him; his hand quickening over his own body with excited gasps.

 

"Baby you feel so good," Louis praised, shuffling back to secure his elbows amongst the hair of the rug.

 

He splayed his fingers and licked between them, hearing Harry's breath hitch and feeling his muscles flutter. He moaned into it; own pleasure forgotten as he guided Harry to his precipice.

 

It didn't take long to get him there; fingers scissoring and tongue dipping in and out to bring him to his second release while Louis stroked himself off behind him; gasping as he spurted wetly over him; sticky liquid falling on his ass cheeks and into his lower back.

 

"Lou," Harry whined, burying his face against his forearm as Louis draped over his back gently, catching his breath.

 

"What is it, love?" Louis asked. 

 

Harry turned his face enough to be heard.

 

"I just made a mess of this beautiful rug," he complained with a pout.

 

Louis leaned back a bit to survey his own mess.

 

"Think most of mine landed on you..."

 

"Don't start," Harry warned with a deep voice.

 

Louis chuckled.

 

"You mean you could really go again?" he teased.

 

Harry moaned weakly into his arm.

 

"You do something inhuman to me."

 

Louis turned him over to kiss him. Harry curled his arms around his neck.

 

"Shall I take you to bed," Louis said more than asked, lifting Harry up.

 

"One of these days I'm going to carry you," Harry promised.

 

Louis smirked.

 

"Not in this lifetime, sweetheart."

 

Harry grinned at him and kicked his legs until Louis tossed him on the King bed.

 

He posed coquettishly, legs curled up and hand pressed against his cheek becomingly.

 

"Be gentle with me," he pleaded softly; with a dirty smirk.

 

Louis climbed on the bed and pulled him into his arms; kissing him until he licked into his mouth.

 

He would always be gentle. _Always._


	17. Chapter 17

_ Chapter 17 _

 

Snowboarding was a different kettle of fish.

 

Louis seemed to click with the guys over the technical aspect of their art and he declined three requests for massages from the group.

 

Harry had twined their hands when Louis had told them he no longer offered his services to the public. Louis had kissed the back of his hand when he'd looked at him pointedly.

 

"Lucky guy," Mason winked at Harry; picking up on their vibe.

 

"Yes," Harry knocked their hands against his thigh gently. "I am. "

 

Louis refrained from saying how _he_ was the lucky one because Harry looked so proud of him in that moment; like he'd won the best prize.

 

Louis was sure his gold medals were worth more than his love but Harry didn't seem to agree.

 

"I can make a referral," Louis offered his new friends instead.

 

"God, you two are cute," Mason wrinkled his nose. "How long have you been together?"

 

Louis realised they didn't have an anniversary. 

 

"Just over three months," Harry replied for him. 

 

"Still in the honeymoon phase, huh," Daniel, one of the other snowboarders said. "Wait til he starts eating with his mouth open," he warned Louis.

 

Louis smirked.

 

"He already does."

 

"Or leaves his dirty socks lying around," Daniel added. " _Then_ you'll start wondering why you settled down."

 

Harry looked at Louis like some might look at their most prized possession.

 

"I don't care if he leaves his socks lying around," he smiled. "I just like having him with me."

 

Mason made a retching noise.

 

"Too cute," he repeated. "Think we better leave you to it," he winked.

 

Louis and Harry grinned into each other's face before turning back to bid their new friends farewell.

 

"Maybe see you out here tomorrow?" Mason asked.

 

"Maybe," Louis shrugged. 

 

They hadn't set a limit on their break away but Louis wanted to try roller skating with Harry while they had the momentum.

 

He was loathe to leave Aspen though; the atmosphere and freedom a tempting draw.

 

They went for a walk after lunch; wrapped up against the cold; gloved hands clutched together. They couldn't twine fingers because Harry had mittens that Louis found to be ridiculous but he was so cute in them he didn't complain.

 

"When do you want to go home?" Harry asked as he walked along; his gait improved to the point that onlookers would no longer know he had once struggled to walk.

 

"I don't," he smiled. 

 

Harry nodded with a hum.

 

"It's so beautiful out here..."

 

"You're different too," Louis observed tugging his hand.

 

Harry swallowed, looking to his booted feet.

 

"Yes I think I probably am."

 

"It's okay," Louis assured. "I'm glad you get some reprieve."

 

"It's you that's giving me the strength to do this," he told Louis then. "You're the reason I'm showing my face in public again and not giving a shit who sees."

 

Louis leaned up to press a gentle kiss against his mouth.

 

"I promise I'm here to stay," he murmured.

 

Harry nodded with a relieved breath out, not knowing he had been holding it.

 

"Lou?" He ventured with a furrow between his brows. 

 

"Yes, love?"

 

Harry looked at him with soft green eyes. 

 

"Is it okay if we go home?"

 

Louis kissed him again and squeezed his hand.

 

"It's more than okay." He promised. 

 

//

 

"I feel like an idiot," Harry grumbled as Louis finished strapping the velcro- elbow protector onto his arm.

 

He had knee pads and his shoulder strap under his clothes. Honestly he was surprised Louis didn't make him wear a helmet.

 

"I'm trying these skates for a reason," Louis lifted up the old-school style four wheeled skates.

 

"That reason being?" Harry asked hesitantly.

 

"The material is supposed to be a brand new innovation. Strong, supportive and flexible," Louis explained. "They have a bit of give when you need it."

 

Harry let Louis lace up the skates as he felt necessary, folding his arms petulantly.

 

He'd shaved for today's date.  Had combed his hair into some kind of smooth style. He'd put on his best black jeans and a black and white striped jumper he thought Louis might like.

 

 "Okay, ready to stand up?"

 

Harry swallowed, eyes wide with fear. He really _wasn't_. 

 

"Use your toe stoppers," Louis murmured, stroking the side of his neck.

 

Harry managed to get up, clutching Louis for support.  He rolled his feet back and forth a bit.

 

"Feels weird. "

 

Louis nodded.

 

"Want to try with the bar?" Louis suggested of the roller rink.

 

He'd booked it out for only them so that Harry didn't have to worry about having a melt down in front of everyone. 

 

Harry gripped Louis' hand as Louis held his arm with both of his; leading him down to the smooth floor.

 

He was still in his converse; feet steady should Harry slip or fall.

 

Harry grasped the railing and took a few deep breaths until his vision stopped blurring and then he let Louis pull him along while his hand ghosted the rail. 

 

Louis stopped him at the end; cuddling close.

 

"Are you okay?" He cupped Harry's face to check.

 

"I'm OK," Harry nodded bravely. 

 

Harry went back the other way under his own steam; feet remembering the way to move in the skates with ease. He let out a breath of relief as Louis rewarded him with a squeeze of his behind.

 

Harry managed a smile and drifted further away from the bar, Louis' hand his anchor as he repeated how to skate.

 

Louis walked the whole floor with him, taking up residence in the centre once Harry worked up to circling the floor in his own in shaky, beginner-style laps.

 

Louis soon began goading him, cheering him on and teasing him to make him push harder.

 

It took another half an hour before he increased his speed and tilted his body into the corners; the old joy of gliding creeping slowly back up. 

 

"That's good Harry! Keep that going..."

 

His thighs were burning; his lungs felt tight. His chest was flushed with exertion and anxiety but he'd never felt so alive. Not even when he'd danced routines that were as close to perfect as you could get.

 

He glanced at the man who made the difference. Louis had given him lust for life again. He'd given him _hope_. His support and encouragement were the reason Harry was here at all. The exhilaration at conquering his fear was very real.

 

After four more laps he slowed down, tightening his circles. Louis looked confused until Harry came to a clumsy stop in front of him; bending to give him a hug.

 

"Thank you."

 

Louis smiled over his shoulder, rubbing his broad back.

 

"Slacker," Louis accused fondly.

 

Harry responded by kissing him for long moments until Louis' hands ruffled his hair. 

 

//

 

"They've made their decision."

 

Harry turned the parlour door handle to let himself into the grand room and Louis shot out of his seat.

 

Harry had taken the call in the library while Louis paced the front room, frantic with worry.

 

He moved towards Harry quickly and cupped his face. 

 

"It's okay, love. Whatever it is we'll face it together..."

 

Harry looked at him, eyes roaming his face for a quiet moment while he found the words.

 

"They'll put it in writing," he began softly. "But I'm losing all of my titles...even the ones I earned when I was of a valid age," he sighed. "It's punishment for what I did and they want it to send a message to deter others.  If they allowed me to keep any then it'd be seen as a slap on the wrist."

 

Louis wrapped his arms around him and held him tight; breathing shocked breaths into his hair.

 

"I didn't think they'd take it _all_ ," he murmured. "You earned those nines, you were amazing!"

 

Harry's arms looped around him more slowly.

 

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled. "Not anymore."

 

"You're still a world class skater," Louis argued as he leaned back. "You can still win them back..."

 

Harry shook his head with a wistful smile.

 

"Most people retire at twenty-three, twenty-four," he said. "I'm lucky that I can afford to do that early. They're giving me a certificate that I can use if I decide to become a teacher," he added softly.

 

Louis blinked.

 

"A teacher?"

 

Harry smiled a bit, cheeks warming.

 

"I'm going to look into it."

 

Louis smiled brightly at him.

 

"It sounds perfect."

 

Harry nodded, his smile becoming wistful.

 

"I think I'll miss it a bit. The touring and the competition..."

 

"Do you still want to skate for fun?" Louis checked.

 

Harry shrugged a bit.

 

"Yes. I mean. When I can."

 

Louis nodded, rubbing his arm.

 

"Good. Because I promised I'd be there and I plan to be."

 

Harry leaned down to kiss him on the mouth.

 

"Love you."

 

"I love _you,"_ Louis tamed his wild hair with familiar fingers. "Now go and call Smith."

 

Harry scampered off as Louis patted his behind fondly.

 

//

 

** Styles statement: I'm retiring! **

 

_Following on from my previous statement I can now confirm with great sadness that I will be retiring from the professional figure -skating circuit._

_Although my injury has been rehabilitated; I accept that my days as a competitive skater are over._

_I would once again like to apologise to my family, friends and fans and I would like to thank everyone for their support._

_I look forward to the next chapter of my life with my boyfriend and the excitement of choosing my next challenge._

 

 

"Harry! Who's your boyfriend?"

 

"Harry, how long until you come out of retirement?"

 

"Is it true that Tomlinson's a cradle-snatcher?"

 

Harry gritted his teeth against the rush of paparazzi that assuaged him as he left Smith's office for the second time in two weeks.

 

He'd followed his new PR's advice and given a short but more intimate interview that embellished on his statement. He'd refused photographs but he got the feeling he’d been snapped as he sat at the white clothed table, elbows perched beside a jar of pink tulips.

 

He narrowed his eyes as he pushed through the crowd; trying to find Louis among the mass but he panicked that the press had made him feel unwelcome and wondered if he'd left without him.

 

"Hey, move, asshole!"

 

Harry couldn't help his soft smile in recognition at the familiar tone, his eyes picking out Louis as he elbowed his way into the throng. 

 

"Princess, you okay?" Louis grasped his arms gently; his body a barrier against the camera-toting men.

 

"Fuck," Harry breathed, bending to slip his arms around him just for the sole purpose of holding him tight.

 

He shut his eyes against the scrutiny and sighed in relief. 

 

"You're here..."

 

"Of course I'm here," Louis rubbed his back, cheek squashed against Harry's shoulder. "Where did you think I'd be?"

 

Harry grinned a little, his lips pulling to one side lopsidedly.

 

"Thought it might have got too much," he murmured just as a tall pap shoved a camera into his face and clicked the button; blinding him.

 

"Hey, shit-bag," Louis elbowed the guy in the stomach sharply. "That's my boyfriend if you don't mind...now fucking move or I'll take you all down, got it?"

 

A begrudging rumble fed through the crowd and a tunnel formed.

 

"Right. That's better," Louis bundled Harry in front of him, one arm caging him; the other pushing onlookers back.

 

He pressed himself against Harry's back and kicked a guy who thought he could reach out and touch Harry. He soon learned that wasn't something he could do.

 

Louis got him to the curb where his newly fuelled Classic car sat. Harry had lost his shit over Louis' Riley one-point-five and begged him not to sell it. Louis had been driving the little rocket for two years despite the fact he'd been made homeless and could have got something far more economic.

 

Harry's smile as he ducked into the little car was worth the financial strain of keeping it.

 

Only once he was safely inside did Louis climb in to drive them away from the melee.

 

"So," he sighed as he turned the key and pressed the starter motor with a pump of the gas pedal.

 

The car roared to life; thick engine noise and oil and leather smell making him smile.

 

"You're kind of popular," Louis accused as he pulled away.

 

Harry fiddled with his hands in his lap.

 

"It's not like I can just say that," he defended softly. "Makes me sound egotistical."

 

Louis arched a brow at him and Harry snorted, flicking his hand against Louis' thigh.

 

"Shut up...I'm not big headed."

 

Louis pursed his lips as he wound the steering wheel hard to turn; the gearstick tangling as he tried to change down.

 

He let off the clutch in neutral and tried again.

 

"Easy," Louis told his car.

 

Harry's thighs fell open a bit, a dirty smile playing at his lips.

 

"Who you calling easy?"

 

Louis felt a familiar rush of attraction prickle over his skin.

 

"Don't make me crash my baby," Louis warned quickly, flicking his eyes away from where Harry was running a thumb up the inside seam of his jeans from knee to thigh; his lip bitten by big teeth.

 

"Thought _I_ was your baby?" Harry asked expectantly.

 

"You're equally important." Louis assured

 

"Equally?" Harry pouted. "You mean you'd actually think about your car on the same level as me?"

 

Louis let out a laugh, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth.

 

"Not sure Geraldine's got your tongue. Think your safe..."

 

Harry had given Louis a blow job after the skating session as a thank you and he still felt the tremors of his orgasm to that day. 

 

"Then you like me a little bit more than your car?" Harry checked, fingers roaming up and down the thick curve of this inner thigh.

 

He blinked at Louis coquettishly when he stopped at a traffic light.

 

Louis kept a straight face although his laughter bright eyes probably gave him away.

 

"Maybe a little bit," he shrugged nonchalantly before he pulled away.

 

//

 

Harry was a minx.

 

He was so _naughty._

 

Louis grabbed his wrists tightly and manhandled him roughly against the entrance wall; Liam and Maite out for the day.

 

He pressed his thigh against Harry's groin and thumbed at the underside of his wrists.

 

"You nearly-" he rasped, unable to finish his sentence.

 

_You nearly got us arrested._

 

Louis was no prude but sex in his car was prohibited and Harry's little lip-biting, finger-trailing game wasn't meant to escalate.

 

Getting pulled over for a breath test because he had swerved dangerously on the bridge had made him want to fuck Harry senseless.

 

He'd only swerved because Harry had reached across to cup him through his jeans while wanking himself. 

 

Louis had never blushed so hard when the officer had asked him why his passenger was barefoot and shirtless in the midst of winter.

 

Louis didn't think he could tell him the truth.

 

"Because I want to get us _both_ naked," Harry had told the authoritative man in the uniform while Louis prayed he'd make bail.

 

"Wait...aren’t you.. .?" The officer had moved around the car with his notebook and Louis had felt dread seep into his skin. 

 

_What if it became tomorrow's news that they were getting frisky in his car?_

 

But Harry popped the car door open and was in the bigger man's arms before Louis could break a sweat.

 

"Jermaine!" He hugged the black guy fondly with a super star grin.

 

"Don't miss escorting your skinny white ass," Jermaine poked him in the ribs as Harry grinned at him.

 

"Oh, come on," Harry winked, pulling on the t-shirt Louis tossed to him. "You miss our little runs..."

 

"You mean _chases_?" Jermaine scoffed in remembrance. "You used to think it real funny to break free..."

 

Harry tipped his head back and laughed in such a boyishly free way that Louis felt like he was falling in love with him all over again.

 

"So, um," Harry tucked a foot behind his calf. "You think you could let my boyfriend off this time?"

 

Jermaine arched a brow, glancing at Louis who quickly gripped the steering wheel.

 

"The fact he has to put up with _you_ is strong persuasion to oversee his little transgression..."

 

Harry beamed happily.

 

"He loves me," he boasted. 

 

"Is that so?" Jermaine knocked his chin back to where Louis sat.

 

Louis nodded.

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

The officer tucked his book back into his pocket and walked around the car.

 

"Get out of the car please Mr Tomlinson..."

 

Louis gulped, legs shaking as he climbed out.

 

Jermaine flicked a look over the hood at Harry who watched them with a worried frown. The black man made sure to wink at Harry.

 

"So; tell me Mr Tomlinson...are you gonna look after this here mess of a boy?"

 

"Excuse me!" Harry choked indignantly.

 

Louis kept the older man's gaze and nodded.

 

"Promise."

 

Jermaine softened into a smile and wrapped Louis into an encompassing hug.

 

"Just be sure to invite me to the wedding," he patted Louis' arm. "I want to be front row when this wild one finally ties himself down… "

 

"I already have!" Harry called, agitated at his friend’s teasing. "I'm not playing around," he added quietly after.

 

Jermaine came to hug him again.

 

"Nice boy you got yourself there. Take care of him too." He said.

 

Harry nodded with a swallow.

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

The officer moved off with a wave and they'd gotten back in the car amongst breathy giggles.

 

"Shit, that was close," Louis muttered before getting back on course.

 

And there they were; sprawled against the wall and kissing hotly and gasping for breath.

 

"Just fuck me here," Harry begged breathily, moaning as his thumbs dug into Louis' biceps when he lifted him up.

 

Louis felt a shot of eroticism at Harry's enjoyment of his strength; adjusting him in his arms just for the fact it flexed his muscles.

 

"Cheat," Harry clutched at his arms before kissing him again.

 

 

//

 

"Ah!"

 

Louis panted against his cheek, hands cupping his thighs as he pinned him to the wall; Harry prepped and both of them now naked.

 

He’d thrust into him roughly; biting at his collarbones gently afterwards.

 

"Finally;" Harry gasped out on a gritty voice; stretching to take him. "Finally you can _really_ fuck me..."

 

Louis swallowed down his insecurity and flicked his hips; both of them damp with sweat and sticky with the sweet strawberry lube Louis had been saving for another night.

 

Watching Harry's face crease in pleasure before he sucked his plush lips was worth spoiling the surprise.

 

Harry worked himself on Louis' heat; groaning in his throat when he couldn't get enough leverage.

 

Louis surged up; filling him thickly once more. He watched Harry's thigh muscles tighten and flex as they gripped him; the hair of his legs brushing against his smooth sides teasingly. He felt the way Harry's muscles fluttered around him; delicate and arousing

 

He might very well come before Harry was even halfway there.

 

"Louis, _c'mon_ ," Harry begged, circling his hips to grind himself down over and over and Louis pinned him again and sucked a kiss into his neck as he increased the tempo of his hips.

 

"Yes...ah! Yes, Lou!"

 

"That good?" Louis flicked hard; earning a gasp. "Hm? "

 

He bit at Harry's jaw as Harry tightened his legs around him; clinging on for dear life. This was how Louis wanted him forever; weak to his desire and beautifully tousled. 

 

But what if he wasn't enough? Harry was begging for _more_ no matter how hard he gave it.

 

Harry's eyes slipped half shut as he swallowed thickly. 

 

"Fuck, yes," Harry bit his lip as Louis moved back to change their angle a bit; catching his rim. 

 

"Yeah?" Louis checked; gripping his thigh hard and grinding him into the wall.

 

"Yes!" Harry gasped; hands clamped around Louis' thick arm muscles which he moaned in his throat at every time Louis shifted. “Harder, Lou!”

 

Louis gave him it harder; with short, sharp thrusts of his hips and then staying on tiptoe to grind into him after with a sucked breath in and little groan out.

 

“Hard enough?” He breathed against Harry’s ear. “Hm?”

 

Harry swallowed; unable to speak.

 

"Baby, touch yourself," Louis begged, so close to coming that he had to squeeze his eyes shut as his vision went fuzzy.

 

His hips sharpened; fucking him hard as Harry pressed his shoulders into the wall to earn leverage to arch up and meet him halfway in his thrust.

 

"Fuck _, fuck_...Don't need it," he promised in a deep, wrecked voice, chest flushed with the exertion of holding himself up.

 

Harry gasped as Louis drove deep; arms wrapping around his waist to force Harry to grip his waist more tightly with his thighs. His thick thighs quivered under the strain and Louis kissed him; tongue slipping into his mouth and lips bruising in his desire to make Harry his own.

 

Harry's tummy unravelled with a delicious heat; wet release landing hot and sticky between them with no touch to instigate it. Heat mushroomed his skin as Louis came inside him; filling him with his own hot flush of liquid. It was the sweetest feeling; like rain falling on scorching hot skin. Like sunbeams warming sleepy eyelids. 

 

Harry clenched around him instinctively; arms clutched around his strong shoulders.

 

"Don't," he begged on a ravaged whisper as he felt Louis' feet shuffle. He grasped at his bare back with weak fingertips. "Don't move... _please_."

 

Louis lathed his tongue over his bite marks on his collarbone; kissing over his throat and along his jaw.

 

"You're so beautiful," Louis told him. _Again_. So many times.

 

"Don't move," Harry whispered again.

 

//

 

Louis carried Harry to the bed Koala-style, Harry humming in his throat in protest.

 

"Told you not to move."

 

"Yeah well...Liam's coming back soon, love. Not sure he wants to be scarred for life…"

 

Harry lifted his head and smiled tiredly; a wicked lilt to his lips.

 

"Are we having a shower?" He wondered as Louis guided them into the master bedroom.

 

Harry had to unwrap his legs once they were in the shower.

 

"Any pain?" Louis cupped his hip with a worried look.

 

"I'm good," Harry lazily grinned, pulling him in gently to kiss him for long moments; tongue licking into his mouth. "I'm really good..."

 

Louis pursed his lips as he pulled away; his fringe sticking to Harry's a bit.

 

"That you are."

 

Harry winked.

 

"Wanna go again, after?"

 

Louis brushed a thumb over a hot bitten bruise forming over his pectoral.

 

"Think you better have a rest, don't you?"

 

"Think you better fuck me again," Harry replied smoothly.

 

And it was back. The insecurity. Hadn't Louis fucked him hard enough before? Did he like it rough all the time? Was it only about how much of Louis he needed to sate himself and nothing else?

 

Louis bit his lip as he lifted his chin.

 

"Okay." he agreed quietly and followed him to the shower.

 


	18. Chapter 18

_ Chapter 18 _

 

“I’ve got a job…” Louis waited until Harry had opened the newspaper at the breakfast table to share his news.

 

Harry’s head snapped up.

 

“What kind of job?”

 

“A private rehabilitation,” he explained.

 

“Oh?” Harry’s lips pursed a little bit; like he might be secretly affronted. “Who with?”

 

“It’s a swimmer with a torn hamstring…Niall recced me.”

 

“And they don’t mind?” Harry checked carefully. “About…before?”

 

Louis shrugged.

 

“He said he doesn’t care about that.”

 

“He?” Harry repeated throatily.

 

“Yeah, young guy, in his early twenties. Wants to try for the Olympics next year so wanted to get me ahead of the rush,” Louis self-depreciated softly.

 

Harry licked his lips, shifting in his seat.

 

“I see.”

 

“I can start to pay my way again,” Louis ventured, brows lifting hopefully as though he was waiting for permission or something.

 

Harry’s lashes batted over his olive eyes.

 

“Yes. Yes, you can,” he echoed, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

 

Louis let out a breath; as if he had been nervous. Harry surveyed him quietly. He was hiding a smile, tucking it into the corners of his lips; apparently happy at having his independence back along with some faith in his ability.

 

Harry felt something spear him in the chest, something that wanted Louis to stay at home with him all the time and never leave the grounds of the mansion. He wasn’t used to the feeling so he ignored it and watched Louis slide out of his seat, too fidgety to sit still to eat, it seemed.

 

“I’m going to call Niall and let him know. And Zayn because I might need his help…”

 

“Sure,” Harry agreed with a wan smile, eyes clinging to Louis’ behind as he bobbed to the door with a happy hum.

 

//

 

Louis came home from his first day with Leon to find Harry sprinting up and down a marked stretch on the lawn; stopping hard at the lines created with his hoodie and a water bottle and running back the other way on the short blast of a whistle.

 

It looked like hard work, but Harry was completing the task with ease, now; shoulder nearly all better except for a remnant of pain twisting his arm and lifting it high above his head.

 

Louis liked massaging him after his cool down when the muscle was still warm; when Harry was still warm and a little bit sleepy with after-exercise fatigue.

 

He hung back in the shadows as Phil; the cardio-king, checked his watch.

 

“Ten minutes of stretches,” Phil told the younger man.

 

Harry rested his hands on his knees as he caught his breath; slowly segueing into hamstring and calf stretches; working through his body and adding a little yoga in to cool down.

 

He was wearing black sports shorts with grey leggings underneath; a white t-shirt stretched across his now-sweaty chest. Louis didn’t like the way Phil wandered over to help him bend and squat. He might need to remind his colleague that Harry could manage on his own.

 

“What you doing Friday?” Phil asked as Harry twisted his mid-section this way and that.

 

“Nothing,” Harry shrugged.

 

“Want to come out for a few beers?”

 

Louis tensed, back straightening as his ears roared with trying to listen too hard.

 

“Special occasion?” Harry grinned crookedly at the older man.

 

“My birthday, actually,” Phil shared. “Me and the lads are going out…figured you don’t get out much…”

 

Harry looked at him for a long moment.

 

“I go out with Louis,” he said quietly, dropping his gaze.

 

“Bring him along,” Phil said. “Be nice to catch up with him.”

 

“I’ll ask him,” Harry assured. “Thank you.”

 

Phil slipped him a card, cupping his shoulder.

 

“Just drop me a text.”

 

Harry nodded, looking at the card before sliding it into his shorts pocket.

 

Louis twisted out of the shadows and back into the house.

 

//

 

“Hey, you want to go to a party?” Harry asked Louis the next morning as he wandered around the kitchen chewing open-mouthed on what appeared to be a buttered French baton.

 

He was wearing a black t-shirt tucked into some wide-legged trousers with a pinstripe and Louis paused for a moment, eyes flicking over him. His hair was gently persuaded into a soft style; long strands of hair prettied into a tidy, tousled mess.

 

“Are you going out?” He asked right off.

 

“Meeting with the University Director,” Harry answered around his bread.

 

“Oh,” Louis nodded, swallowing. He hadn’t even known Harry had an interview.

 

“So…the party,” Harry prompted. “It’s on Friday…few drinks with Phil and his friends.”

 

Louis looked up and begged his tummy not to twist anxiously. It had caused them to fight in Aspen when he’d said no to dinner with Steven. He felt sick, despite everything. He hated parties.

 

“Sure,” he forced a smile.

 

Harry second-checked his face, slinging food back in the fridge.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Louis blinked, muscles tensing.

 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Why not?”

 

Harry’s brows lifted; his chewing slowing down somewhat as he considered the question.

 

“No, nothing. Okay I’ll tell him we’re in and find out the details.” Harry surmised.

 

“Great,” Louis confirmed with a plastic smile.

 

“I’m off now,” Harry finished his food and brushed his hands free of crumbs; swooping up to Louis to cup his face; pressing a buttery kiss to his lips. “See you later, Baby…”

 

Louis couldn’t help his softened smile.

 

“Bye, love.”

 

//

 

Louis invited Leon along to the celebrations. The younger man had messaged him expressing some worrying thoughts and Louis didn’t want him wandering around town on his own at night.

 

Although Louis arrived hand in hand with Harry; his boyfriend was whisked off by Phil’s younger brother into the midst of a drinking game which Louis politely declined to partake.  Instead he checked his phone and walked to the bar to order a weaker drink; checking the door for new arrivals.

 

When a cold blast of air came ten minutes later; he turned to check the doorway and waved with a smile at the younger man standing there.

 

He moved toward him and guided the shy man gently into the room.

 

“Welcome to the mad house,” Louis murmured to his guest.

 

They were just moving toward the bar when-

 

“Hi.”

 

Harry appeared in front of them; breathless and stunning in his chosen outfit. White shirt, unbuttoned to his butterfly tattoo and tight black jeans with boots. He’d puffed his fringe up and he looked like a model.

 

“Harry, I’d like you to meet Leon,” Louis introduced.

 

The younger man smiled nervously at Harry.

 

“Hi. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he complimented.

 

Harry managed a smile.

 

“How’s the treatment going so far?”

 

“Oh, brilliantly,” Leon gushed. “Louis is just incredible, I can’t believe I didn’t use him before…”

 

“Hm,” Harry nodded with a tightening of his lips. “He’s certainly incredible, alright…”

 

Louis flicked Harry a confused look, pressing a hand to Leon’s back.

 

“Go and order a drink and tell them to add it to my tab,” Louis told him gently.

 

Once he was out of ear shot- enveloped into the group of men at the bar- Louis checked Harry’s face.

 

“I hope you don’t mind me inviting him along…”

 

“Would have been nice to know you _had_ ,” Harry quipped quietly; nostrils flaring.

 

“He texted me telling me was feeling down,” Louis gestured to his mobile. “I wasn’t sure he’d definitely make it. And you were over there tossing back shots, so-“

 

“So, what?” Harry frowned a bit, tilting his head.

 

Louis swallowed.

 

“Nothing,” he assured in a gentle voice. “I wasn’t going anywhere with that.”

 

Harry stared at him, one eye narrowing slightly in silent challenge. They both knew _exactly_ where he was going with his comment.

 

“Alright. Then I’m permitted to re-join the drinking festivities?” Harry enquired tartly with a brow lift.

 

Louis felt the fight drain from him; horrified to think Harry thought he might be _controlling_. Maybe Harry had wanted to come tonight on his own, have time away from Louis? Maybe he wanted to see what other choices he had out there; men who could fuck him as hard as he liked without having to be _told._

Louis moved to the bar before the tears stung his eyes; drawing in a deep breath to gather his emotions as he joined Leon at the bar.

 

He curved a hand around his shoulder.

 

“Uh, Leon…I-uh, I actually have to go,” Louis murmured, pushing fingers into his fringe delicately.

 

Leon turned to give him a surprised look.

 

“Um, okay...Should I—I should get a lift with you,” he suggested hesitantly. “Didn’t want to stay out late, really.”

 

Louis stared at him for a long moment; giving a curt nod. He moved to find Harry among the boisterous crowd; finding him glugging a Jaegermeister with a component; a third participant timing them with a stop-watch.

 

Louis felt something twist in his chest and it felt a lot like reality.

 

Harry was _nineteen_. He had years of youth to enjoy while Louis wanted to settle down and curl up at home in the quiet; low-lit house.

 

He cupped Phil’s arm.

 

“Hey…tell Harry I had to go, yeah?”

 

Phil turned to look at him, distracted.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Tell Harry I had to leave!” Louis shouted.

 

Phil gave him the thumbs up and Louis headed for the door; checking back one last time before slipping out. Harry was on his second drink and the stop-watch was starting over.

 

//

 

Harry stumbled in around four am.

 

Louis expected him to drunkenly come looking for him when he found his room empty but all he heard was the staggering thud of his feet on floorboards as he got ready for bed once his room door slammed shut.

 

Louis pulled his duvet more tightly around himself and wondered if Harry was still mad at him. It was the tell-tale sound of vomiting that had Louis crawling out of his warm cocoon to creep across the hallway; tugging on the nearest warm jumper over his fleece pyjamas.

 

Harry’s house was so cold. He turned up the thermostat; padding towards the bathroom.

 

Harry was leaned over the toilet basin; heaving up his guts.

 

Louis rolled his eyes and got to his knees beside him; gliding a hand over his spine.

 

Harry stiffened and Louis paused; waiting for his reaction. He felt Harry sigh; body relaxing.

 

“Lou.”

 

“Yeah, Princess, it’s me,” he soothed; rubbing his spine. “You’re okay…”

 

Harry whined and retched dryly; stomach empty of alcohol.

 

Louis stripped off his jumper and helped him into it; noticing his jeans were damp and dirty, too.

 

“I’m going to find you some warm clothes,” he murmured, filling his tooth-brushing glass with water to hand over.

 

Harry held it with a shaky hand and took tiny sips.

 

Louis laid some tracksuit bottoms on the bed and went back to the bathroom to scoop Harry up, bringing him to the four-poster where he gently rolled him back; fingers going to his jeans rivet to unbutton his fly.

 

“Kinky,” Harry slurred with a seductive grin- more drunken than sexy. His long fingers curled around Louis’ wrist as if to guide his hand over his zipper.

 

“No, I’m just trying to prevent hypothermia,” Louis muttered; unzipping his jeans efficiently and tugging the tight denim down with an unforgiving whip.

 

“Heyyy,” Harry pouted, huffing his fringe away from his eyes. “Easy…”

 

Louis yanked at the material until it finally gave way to his strength. Harry lolled in the bed looking up at him with glassy, blinking eyes and loose limbs; long legs bare now.

 

“Do you still love me?” Harry asked, pouting.

 

Louis picked up the soft trousers and went about pulling them over his legs; gentle hands smoothing up his hairy thighs.

 

“You think I’d do all this if I didn’t?” He asked back.

 

Harry seemed to find the question too hard to answer.

 

“But you-“ He began to argue as Louis shifted him further onto the bed; the right way to lay in it with a pillow under his head.

 

“I, what, Harry?” Louis murmured to humour him.

 

“You brought Leon,” he accused. “Your new client…to your first social thing and…and-“

 

Louis leaned back from pulling the covers down from underneath his heavy body.

 

“And you didn’t even want to go out with _me_ ,” Harry frowned.

 

“Look, you’re too drunk to talk about this now so let’s just-“

 

“Am not,” Harry propped onto his elbow petulantly.

 

Louis waited five seconds before Harry plopped onto his back with a tired sigh.

 

“Alright, maybe I am.”

 

He tried to bite back a smile; fingers delving into his fringe. He leaned over to kiss his forehead.

 

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

 

Harry reached out to grasp the hem of his fleece top; tugging at it weakly.

 

“Don’t go, Lou.”

 

Louis sighed and turned around; walking to the other side of the bed. He noticed Harry’s smug little smile as he climbed under the covers.

 

//

 

Harry was spooning him.

 

He smelt like his tropical shampoo and fresh mint and Louis knew that he’d gotten up to shower and clean his teeth at some point in the night.

 

He twisted in his arms; tidying his pretty; soft hair, dried in skewed angles with fluffy curls in the ends.

 

Harry’s arms curled back around him, cuddling him in. Louis enjoyed the feel of him all warm and lax; nose against his jaw and lips brushing his neck.

 

“I’m not a pretty drunk,” is what Harry said; in a dry; raspy voice.

 

“Nor am I,” Louis lamented with a twist of his lips. “We don’t balance each other out on that one…”

 

Harry’s knee nudged between his; his body leaned forward as if to earn a tighter hug. Louis indulged him; if only for the words still swirling in his mind.

_Do you still love me?_

 

Harry doubted him. Louis maybe knew why.

 

“You want some pain-killers?” Louis asked quietly, still stroking his hair.

 

Harry shook his head, tucked against his throat.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Louis asked instead, with a swallow.

 

“Why did you bring Leon?” He asked honestly; in a whisper.

 

Louis squeezed his eyes shut.

 

“Honestly?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry tilted his head back to cradle it on Louis’ shoulder, fingertips tracing over his collar-bones as he gently tugged his jumper away to reach the words tattooed over his chest.

 

_It is what it is._

 

“He really was having a downer,” Louis sighed. “And if I had to be there then I guess I needed-“

 

“Someone who knew how you felt?” Harry guessed.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

Louis looked away; breath expelling from his lungs. Why did everything hurt so much? Even now, when he thought he’d worked through it all?

 

“Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to go?”

 

That was an easy answer. Louis looked into his lazily blinking eyes.

 

“Because we’re a partnership, now.”

 

“So? I could have gone on my own or stayed at home with you, it’s not like you have to feel obligated,” Harry insisted.

 

“I don’t want you to stay at home,” Louis sighed again. “You’re young and you need that freedom, you need to enjoy your life now while you have the chance…”

 

Harry worked up the energy to shift; hand cupping under Louis’ head; arm under his shoulder.

 

“Lou…”

 

Louis flicked his eyes away. Harry kissed by his lips.

 

“Look at me, please,” he asked politely.

 

Louis blinked; gaze fixed in the top corner of the bedroom ceiling where a tiny cobweb swung in the air precariously.

 

“I’m young,” Harry murmured, shifting to lay over him a bit. “But it doesn’t change how I feel.”

 

Louis refused to be drawn in.

 

“About _you_ ,” Harry added, with another gentle kiss against his upper lip.

 

Louis let the tight breath leave his lungs with some of his resolve.

 

“You might find someone else,” he whispered; voice shaky with fear.

 

Harry frowned.

 

“I won’t.”

 

“You like—” Louis winced, pulling away from his tempting embrace a bit to separate them once more. He dragged himself to the edge of the bed to sit on it. “You like things that I might not be able to give you.”

 

“Like what?” Harry demanded.

 

Louis twisted to catch his angry eyes; brows furrowed together.

 

“Stuff,” he breathed, cheeks burning.

 

“What kind of stuff?” Harry enquired, sitting up too now.

 

Louis looked away. Harry had on Louis’ big hoodie; the one with ‘Tomlinson’ printed over his heart, the one he’d put on him last night that he must have put back on after showering.

 

“Lou, what kind of stuff?” Harry crawled over to where he was sitting and shaped himself around Louis’ body behind him.

 

Louis tried not to lean back against his chest. He didn’t succeed.

 

“Like…sex stuff,” he managed to divulge.

 

Harry tempered a snort.

 

“You think we don’t have good enough sex?” He asked dryly.

 

“ _Am_ I good enough, though?” Louis challenged; finding it easier to open up with Harry behind him. His green eyes were distracting when he was looking right into them; they told him way too many secrets and quietened his frantic mind.

 

For once, he wanted to be frantic. He felt paralysed with fear.  He might not be enough.

 

“Are you-“ Harry huffed out the question in a rueful echo; pausing before finishing his thought.

 

It came with a gentle hand grasping at his top; slipping underneath to flatten against his belly. Harry’s fingers relaxed into his shape; knowing him by feel now; not needing to see to guide his palm. He hooked his chin on Louis’ shoulder and synced their breathing; humming a little in his throat when Louis almost tipped himself off the edge of the bed.

 

Harry crossed an arm over his chest to secure him there; restrictive but ultimately sweet.

 

“Lou, you’re more than I’ll ever need,” he murmured against his ear.

 

Louis licked his lips. He relaxed into Harry’s embrace and pressed the soles of his feet into the tops of Harry’s while they sat together; warm and tightly cuddled.

 

“Is it to do with the toys?” Harry wondered, mind casting back to the incident with the laptop.

 

Louis shook his head. Then tilted it. _Kind of_.

 

“You want—” he broke off, realising how ridiculous his fears sounded out loud.

 

“I want,” Harry prompted; fingers sliding between his ribs.

 

“Sex,” Louis blurted.

 

Harry chuckled breathily against his neck, making him shiver. Harry’s arms wrapped around him to keep him warm.

 

“That’s true,” Harry murmured. “Don’t you?”

 

“Maybe not as much,” Louis ventured.

 

“Okay,” Harry stiffened slightly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

_Don’t want to lose you._

“Anything else?” Harry nosed into the back of his hair.

 

“Like, is it good for you? Am I—Is it hard enough?”

 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry groaned, rolling backwards to tilt them onto the bed only to twist Louis underneath him; tangling their legs as he weighed him down.

 

Louis wanted to fight him, to look away but he couldn’t; he was pinned with his body and his eyes; staring into green seas.

 

“You fuck me better than any man has ever fucked me,” Harry told him on a tight throat. “And if you think that’s all I care about then you’re fucking wrong,” he added with a hurt look. “I would rather kill myself than hurt you.”

 

Harry kissed him. It was commanding but sweet, somehow. He softened the passion of his lips with a gentle thumb trailing Louis’ cheek; a hand sneaking up under the back of his jumper.

 

“It hurt watching you play drinking games with those guys,” Louis admitted with a soft voice.

 

“Those people mean nothing to me,” Harry assured. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off with them the way I did. I was just…I don’t know.”

 

“You knew I wasn’t into it,” Louis said for him,

 

Harry nuzzled his cheek.

 

“There’s part of me that wants you to be jealous,” he admitted quietly with a swallow.

 

Louis let out a breath at the admission. Harry had told him how he had to compete for his ex-boyfriend’s attention and it was going to take time for Harry to trust him completely.

 

“So, you…you _wanted_ me to be jealous?” He queried.

 

Harry smirked.

 

“It’s pretty hot.”

 

Louis felt the answering burn in his groin. It _was_ hot. Getting to claim Harry as his was the hottest thing of all.

 

He moaned as Harry flicked his tongue against his; sinking into another kiss.

 

He tugged at Harry’s jumper and Harry smiled smugly.

 

“We’re not having sex.”

 

“Why not?” Louis frowned.

 

Harry resettled his hips.

 

“Because I’m proving to you that I love you without it.”

 

“Fuck’s sake, Harry,” Louis rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to abstain to convince me!”

 

Harry insistently tugged his jumper back over his belly.

 

“Until further notice, the shop is closed.” He teased.

 

Louis almost felt worse for saying anything, but Harry kissed him again, more slowly this time and suddenly his honesty seemed worth it.

 

Harry hummed and shifted a bit on top of him.

 

 _More than worth it_.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovely people   
> A

_ Chapter 19 _

 

"You good?"

 

Louis stood from lacing Harry's ice skates to consider his face.

 

He was pale and shaky but determination burned behind his olive eyes.

 

"I'm good."

 

He grasped Harry's hand and walked down to the ice with him; slipping off his blade protectors before taking a step over the edge.

 

Harry gulped.

 

"We can leave any time," Louis promised patiently.

 

Harry dropped his own protectors, some new boots on his feet. Supportive ones that were supposed to help just like the roller boots.

 

"Right. Okay." He huffed, looking at the ice and then up at Louis.

 

Louis smiled, lips pursing in a little teasing smile.

 

"Scared, Princess?"

 

Harry let his lips soften into a reluctant tug upwards.

 

"Yes. I am," he admitted.

 

Louis had asked if they could sneak into the senior’s session; unable to book out the entire rink. The ice there was of far better quality and the Olympic skaters would be practising there. 

 

He watched as Harry got himself to the edge; hesitantly tiptoeing over it onto the ice. 

 

"Come on, love," Louis encouraged softly, grasping his forearms and angling his boots to go as close as he could; nearly toe to toe to reassure him.

 

Harry had his elbow and knee pads strapped over his big jumper. His hair was shoved to the side messily and he looked like a little boy learning to skate for the first time.

 

His eyes were on the ice; focusing on his feet, body bent forward to mitigate any risk in falling. He licked his lips shakily, glancing at Louis nervously. 

 

"Alright?" Louis checked, clutching at his sleeves a bit to comfort him.

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ok," Harry nodded with a swallow.

 

Louis waited for him to catch his breath; waited for him to straighten up a bit.

 

Harry slowly got his confidence; leg muscles quivering where he stood in his new boots.

 

"It feels like the first time," he smiled. "I mean I was tiny but..."

 

Louis nodded, holding him steady as he shuffled his feet.

 

"Thank you," Harry told him again, eyes wide with an innocence Louis hadn't seen that first day they met. 

 

Harry had buried much of his youth with his hopes of getting better and Louis loved that he was getting to unearth it.

 

"I hope you're not trying to distract me," Louis teased with a crinkled-eyed smile. "I'm not giving you favouritism just because I'm in love with you..."

 

Harry smiled at the expression of his feelings; his eyes darting over Louis' shoulder to where an older lady floated past.

 

"Don't mind me dear!" She called. "You carry on proposing!"

 

Louis turned with his mouth agape.

 

"I'm not-"

 

"Who's proposing?" A louder female voice called from a few feet away, a smaller woman skating over. "Bethany is it these two? Beautiful young couple!" She beamed as she stopped beside them.

 

"No, we're not-" Louis started again only to be cut off once more.

 

"Rose! Rose you've got to get over here!" The lady beside them shouted. "He's about to get on one knee!"

 

A tall, silver blonde woman gracefully skated her way across the ice.

 

"Shh, Alice. Don't ruin the moment..."

 

Louis' face burned as he peeked at Harry.

 

"Shit," he breathed.

 

"Ooh no," Alice tutted. "Don't start with swear words. That's not romantic..."

 

"You need to get on your knee, dear," Bethany added, regrouping with the other two ladies.

 

"Ask him nicely," Rose added.

 

Harry's smile couldn't get any bigger before he burst into laughter; balance wobbling with his giggles while Louis skated close to hold him around the middle.

 

Harry propped his arms over Louis', fisting the back of his jumper.

 

"Well?" He grinned. "We're all waiting..."

 

Louis let the frantic thud of his heart slow down. He let his breathing mellow. Slowly and with care not to disrupt Harry's balance, he slid away to make room to kneel. 

 

Harry smiled at him bemusedly, Rose skating up to support him in Louis' absence when Harry looked a bit wobbly.

 

"It's alright dear we'll look after you..."

 

"No swearing." Bethany added

 

Harry snorted, curling his hand over his lips as his cheeks too blushed red.

 

"Lou, you don't have to do this we can just tell them-"

 

"Well it wasn't how I planned it in my mind, but," Louis muttered.

 

Harry's smile slipped. His eyes widened and he swallowed hard.

 

"What?" A furrow formed between his brows. "Lou..."

 

Louis manoeuvred his legs so he was on one knee.

 

"Where's the ring dear?" Rose whispered. "You should get that out...swing it in your favour..."

 

"Rosie!" Bethany swiped the other woman. "Hush!"

 

Harry would have lost it laughing again if Louis didn't look so serious. He even dipped a hand in his jeans pocket authentically.

 

"I was going to give you this later as a promise ring," Louis brought the beautiful silver rose ring out and lifted it up. "I know we haven't been together long but I want you to know what you mean to me..."

 

"Oh, he's so romantic!" Alice gushed in a whisper.

 

"Beautiful ring!" Rose agreed.

 

Louis smiled at their audience, eyes drifting back to Harry who looked stunned.

 

"And well...if the promise happens to be forever then I'm willing to make it to you," Louis swallowed. "I don't want to be with anyone else."

 

Harry stared at him dumbfounded; flanked by two of the women now because he looked about to flake.

 

"Fuck," he whispered.

 

"Naughty boys," Alice tutted.

 

"Sorry ladies," Harry quickly apologised, reaching forward to tug Louis up off the ice by the lapel of his coat. "Fucking kiss me, will you?" He murmured to Louis and pulled him into a meaningful kiss.

 

He'd never forget the feeling when his lashes fluttered open and Louis was staring at him expectantly.

 

"Oh shit..." he gasped, swallowing with a bashful smile. "I mean, of course," he managed to say. "I'll wear your ring, Louis..."

 

"Is this some kind of alternative wedding?" Alice accused of Harry's response. 

 

"It's not actually a proposal," Louis explained to their new friends with a soft, open smile. "Well at least it wasn't until you three came over..."

 

"Ah, matchmakers!" Bethany clapped her hands together. "You can thank us later!"

 

Harry chuckled at their enthusiasm and slipped on his new ring. It fit him perfectly.

 

He reached to press kisses to the back of each of Louis' hands. 

 

"I love you so much."

 

Louis shied away from the praise.

 

"Do you want to try skating?" He checked.

 

"We'll help," Bethany grasped Harry's hand while Rose supported his back. 

 

Louis smirked at the scene; skating toward Alice.

 

"Are we ready, ladies?" He called.

 

"Hey," Harry complained.

 

"Sorry, Princess," Louis smiled. "Are you ready?"

 

Harry rolled his eyes and let the women surrounding him pull him along until he got his footing.

 

//

 

He was perfect. Absolutely incredible.

 

Louis felt his heart twist at the bitter-sweet knowledge that Harry would never compete again. His long muscular body deserved to grace the ice; deserved to create breath-taking swoops and dainty spins.

 

He hadn't attempted any jumps. But Louis clutched the hem of his sweater each time Harry built up speed to reverse skate around a corner or drive himself into a simple attitude spin.

 

He had spent an hour skating with him; watching him build up his confidence and stepping away was somewhat like setting a bird free who's wings you had helped to heal. 

 

"We're closing up!" Brian, the rink manager, called to Louis.

 

Harry heard but he seemed reluctant to leave; circling the ice sadly. Louis skated back onto the oval, twining their fingers when he made it across the ice to join Harry. 

 

"How does it feel?" 

 

Harry swallowed.

 

"Like coming home," his boots dashed outwards as they made their way around the ice.

 

Brian would probably chastise them in a minute for dawdling. 

 

Louis looked at Harry's profile; trying to read his thoughts.

 

"Whatever you want to do, Harry," he said.  

 

Harry nodded, quickly checking around to see who was watching.  On finding nobody there, he circled himself in towards Louis and sneaked his arms around his waist. 

 

"I'm not going back to comps," he accepted gravely.

 

"You've got the option should you to decide otherwise," Louis promised.

 

Harry smiled softly at him, eyes lighting. He leaned in for a longing kiss; lips clinging to Louis' sweetly.

 

"It's all because of you."

 

Louis shook his head.

 

"No, you put in the work, love," he praised.

 

"I was a brat," Harry rolled his eyes, unfurling Louis from his arms to grasp his hand and pull him to the edge when Brian strode past again, this time tapping his watch.

 

"A cute brat," Louis smirked.

 

Harry paused as they stepped onto the rubber at the side of the rink.

 

"Oh, yeah?"

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"Brat," he murmured. 

 

Harry laughed, sliding both palms over Louis' ass as he shuffled closer once more. 

 

"Can I make it up to you?" He wondered with a hopeful brow-arch.

 

Louis kissed his lips quickly before Brian caught them again.

 

//

 

"So, did you mean it?"

 

Harry laid on his back; body bare and unfairly beautiful as Louis over-lapped him on his front.

 

"Hmm?" Louis lifted his head from the hand that was propped on Harry's chest. 

 

Harry lifted his arm from around Louis to twist his ring, brushing the band against Louis shoulder. 

 

"Forever," Harry said quietly, his voice weak with fear.

 

Louis’ head lifted up with a snap. He watched Harry for a moment, lifting his hand with the ring on it; studying the flower design.

 

"I did," he confirmed. "It looks pretty on you." He added of the ring.

 

Harry let his arm slide back around Louis' body; hand splaying on his back.

 

"You look pretty on me, too," he smiled smugly.

 

Louis snorted.

 

"Think you've had prettier," he muttered.

 

Harry shook his head widely.

 

"You are by far the prettiest."

 

"Besides," Louis pressed a kiss to his chest.  "I'm more _manly_ than pretty anyway..."

 

Harry chuckled; body twisting with it. Louis resettled under his arm, tucked in his side.

 

"Okay, Lou. Whatever you say..."

 

Louis pulled himself up to drape himself over Harry's long body; blue eyes twinkling as he bit back a smile.

 

"You calling me a liar?"

 

Harry's eyes lit up with an answering glow.

 

"I don't know...am I?" He smirked.

 

Louis wriggled to straddle him; Harry's hands flopping by his ears in mock surrender as he bit his lip.

 

"Don't hurt me," he begged in a deep, enticing voice.

 

Louis watched him with a flash of doubt. Did he like bondage? He'd mentioned being tied and Louis had told him he never would and now--

 

Now Harry wanted to play; the way his body curled about suggestively between Louis' thighs was indication to that. Louis didn't know how to _play_. He knew how to love someone; how to make them feel good but-

 

His skin burned in memory of how Harry had held him the last time he’d had a crisis of faith. How Harry had resolutely refused to have sex with him just because he’d wanted to stubbornly prove to Louis that it wasn’t all about that for him.

 

He leaned forward; curling his hands around Harry’s wrists to hold them there, against the bed. Harry’s breath caught as Louis ducked to kiss him; brushing their bodies together suggestively. Harry’s moan went straight to his dick.

 

“Want me to tie you up?” Louis asked breathily; rutting against his hip.

 

Harry wriggled a bit beneath him; trying to find his own friction.

 

“No, I want—” he huffed; trying to twist himself free of Louis’ hold.

 

“Hmm?” Louis held him securely down. “Can’t hear you, Angel.”

 

Harry stared at him; teeth grazing over his lip as his breath peaked; chest lifting sharply and collapsing just as hard. Louis could feel the warmth radiating from him; could see the arousal that ran through him as he hardened without either of them lending a hand to that reaction.

 

“Want _you_ ,” Harry told him; and his voice broke in its husk; vulnerable and with heavy emotion delivered with his words. “Only want you, Louis,” he promised quietly again after.

 

Louis kissed him deeply; bare skin pressing against bare skin as he leaned into Harry’s body; arms sliding around him to pull him close. Harry celebrated having his hands back by palming Louis’ ass and twisting them to roll on top of him. Harry kissed him softly.

 

“Make love to me,” he murmured; seemingly understanding the difference in the words from his usual request for a fuck.

 

Louis thought his heart might beat out of his chest.

 

He leaned in to kiss him again; to make love to him the way he had asked.

 

//

 

 

Louis let himself into the art studio; the miniature watering can clutched in his hand that he’d used to water the beautiful jungle Harry was cultivating.

 

The last time he’d gone in there, the room had been empty and only echoed of the activity which it must have seen before his arrival.

 

Now, it was teeming with life.

 

Several canvasses were stacked up against the sides; laid out on the cupboard tops and one was still resting on the easel; clean tools resting gently beside it on a side table while Harry’s wooden chair bore only the smock he wore while painting.

 

The paintings were all in hues of blue; some sweeping; artistic messes and some more defined; shapes apparent among the different tones.

 

The one on the easel was by far the most beautiful; almost a street scene with trees hinted at in among the shadows.

 

“You found them.”

 

Louis turned to look over at the door; finding Harry leaning there.

 

He was wearing his more-favoured-of-late dark blue jeans and a pale blue shirt in a soft material which gaped over his chest where he’d left it mostly unbuttoned. He looked like he might have to go out for a casual meeting but wanted to tease Louis before he left.

 

“They’re beautiful,” Louis told him honestly. “I love this one,” he curled a hand around the canvas on the easel.

 

“You can have it, if you’d like,” Harry offered. “I never did find the right blue for the streetlight…”

 

Louis frowned at the picture objectively.

 

“It looks fine to me.”

 

“That’s what Liam said,” Harry smiled, coming into the room. His hands were clasped behind his back almost as though he was nervous.

 

Louis bit his lip.

 

“I may have been watering your plants,” he admitted quietly.

 

Harry’s lips pursed as he stopped and leaned back against the side; behind the easel.

 

“I found that out after you’d left,” he shared. “Made me realise that you’re the only person who cares enough about me to keep my plants alive…”

 

Louis chuckled; stepping away from the easel to walk over toward him.

 

“It’s such a perfect room for them and they seemed to bring it to life.”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“I love having them to look at while I’m painting.”

 

“Can I watch you?” Louis wondered then. “You know, when you next…”

 

Harry peeked at him with a knowing grin; dimple flashing.

 

“Why, does it turn you on?”

 

Louis stepped in closer to him; running his fingers carefully down the edge of his shirt; firstly the unbuttoned part and then lower, catching in the pool of material by his hip.

 

“This colour looks good on you,” he breathed. “Kind of like my eyes…”

 

“That’s the colour I wanted for the light,” Harry replied; meeting Louis’ gaze as Louis slipped an arm around his waist. “But I couldn’t find it.”

 

Louis’ hand cupped his hip.

 

“You were sad,” he guessed more than asked, brows furrowing.

 

“You were gone,” Harry said with a little shrug.

 

With a little coaxing from Louis’ fingers against his bare side, Harry leaned off the side and freed his hands which had been pinned behind him. He banded his arms around Louis’ whole body tightly; including the arms around him.

 

“I won’t leave again,” Louis assured; fingers exploring the warmth of Harry’s skin where they glided over his torso. “Where are you going?” He asked.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

“To find out about teaching,” he shared. “Think I’ve found a course I can do before I set up classes.”

 

Louis let both of his hands unfurl over his chest; shirt untucked but still half-buttoned and about to be removed.

 

“Does this material crease?” Louis lifted a brow, getting onto tiptoe to reach his mouth to kiss him; their lips clinging together in familiar relish; too long since they had last met and meshed this way.

 

“Yes,” Harry breathed; shifting to push himself into the embrace more. “But you can ruin it for all I care…”

 

Louis found the buttons with slow fingers; mouth still occupied with Harry’s as their lips melded; love passed between them wordlessly with their mouths. He wanted to rip the shirt open; to send the buttons scattering over the studio floor. He wanted to palm over the front of Harry’s jeans where he was already getting hard but his hands were plastered against his butt and the back of his head; passion flaming quickly between them from one simple conversation.

 

The shirt released with a soft drop; Harry making a sound in his throat in agreement to that; his eyes reverent as Louis peeled the fabric off his body with tender care. He folded the material and carefully draped it over the back of his chair; coming back to kiss Harry some more; leaning him into the counter.

 

It was hot, taking him against the counter. He sat up on it with his legs wrapped around Louis while they kissed; deeply. Louis thrust slow and hard; relishing every grunt from Harry’s throat; every high-pitched cry. The way they synced when they fucked was still a blinding mystery, but Louis was hooked on the feeling. He loved watching every change in Harry’s features as he thrust in deep; loved watching his lips fall open and the breaths expel sharply out of his lungs. He loved the way his chest flushed right before he came; head thrown back with the impossible pleasure of it all.

 

He loved feeling his muscular, strong body in his arms; around him, clenching him tightly to savour the feel; lips ravaging his to earn another moment of desire; another second of dizzying heat.

 

And after; when Harry gazed at him with hazy eyes; skin warm and fingers trailing through Louis’ hair gently; Louis loved that the most. The tender come-down, the slowing of his breath and the ease of tension in his body. The way he wanted to just be close; hugging him and clutching him tightly to refute the reality of having to let go.

 

“Thought you had a meeting,” Louis stroked the back of his hair gently; over his neck as they cuddled.

 

Harry heaved a sigh.

 

“You make it very difficult for me to want to leave.”

 

Louis pulled away to cup his neck, thumbs brushing up to his jaw.

 

“You’ve got to go and show the world how brightly you shine,” Louis told him. “I’m not going to keep you hidden.”

 

Harry’s dimple pooled as he gave Louis a crooked, soft smile.

 

“Would you like to?”

 

Louis smiled back; teeth flashing as he dipped his gaze.

 

“Sometimes I think about it.”

 

“Yeah?” Harry crowded close to kiss him again; slowing it down to a sweet, loving lip suck.

 

Louis gently but insistently put him away from his body.

 

“If you don’t leave now I’ll be inclined to carry you up those stairs, caveman style,” he teased.

 

Harry grinned, stepping away to collect his clothes.

 

“Can you do that when I get home?” He bargained.

 

Louis swatted his behind as he turned but he smirked at Louis over his shoulder and walked slowly enough to the door that it gave Louis a lasting memory of his long, naked body walking away.

 

//

 

 

Louis packed up his things at the end of a long day; four lectures full of rambunctious students testing his patience and will power combined. 

 

He didn't have a smart leather briefcase like most of his colleagues who worked at the College. He had a tan satchel instead, one Harry had given him after he'd gotten the job. 

 

The fact it used to be Harry's was a happy bonus. Whenever Louis' fingers touched the not-quite-new leather it reminded him of his boyfriend.

 

He smirked. _Soon to be fiancé_.

 

He hoped.

 

He was on his way to ask a very important question. He was on his way to surprise Harry. 

 

"Sir?"

 

A shy voice called out from the back of the room and Louis looked up, biting his lip guiltily at missing Henry still sitting there.

 

"Yes, Henry?"

 

"You're dating that famous guy aren't you, Sir?"

 

Louis swallowed.

 

The students had found out about his relationship with Harry about a week after he had started, an article in Hello magazine using old interviews Harry had done to thrash together to make something new. They'd included a few photos of the pair of them from the day Harry gave his statement to Smith.

 

"I am." Louis affirmed gently.

 

He would never deny his love no matter what judgement came with it.

 

"He's -" Henry paused with a wince.

 

Louis finished packing his bag and walked over.

 

"He's what, Henry?"

 

"Younger than you," Henry blurted.

 

Louis lifted a brow, unsure where this was going.

 

"Quite a bit," Louis admitted. "As you're no doubt aware..."

 

Henry frowned, looking up at him from where he clutched a pen in two hands side by side.

 

"I like this guy," he finally sighed.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Louis hadn't expected _that_.

 

"Okay," he nodded taking it in his stride. "Is he younger than you?" He guessed. 

 

"No, older," Henry shared. "Like...a bit older."

 

The protectiveness in Louis flared in his chest. His students were seventeen not that much younger than Harry when they had met but he still had a fatherly concern for each and every one of them.

 

"How much older?"

 

"Three years," he said and Louis let out a relieved breath.

 

"He doesn't pressure you, does he?" Louis asked gently.

 

Henry smiled at him then like he knew. Like he knew Louis was doing his big brother part.

 

"No, Sir. "

 

"Good," Louis nodded, letting go of his previous tension. "That's good."

 

"When did you know?" Henry asked him then.

 

"Know what?" Louis queried, stepping away as Henry unfurled from his seat and the drifted toward the door. 

 

"When you loved him." He said quietly, almost shy.

 

Louis glanced at him. Sharing his personal relationships could seriously backfire on him should his student decide to call the press. But this boy looked like he needed reassurance and not an impersonal response.

 

"Well," Louis swallowed as a smile ghosted his lips. 

 

He hadn't pinpointed the exact moment he'd fallen in love before because it was hard to know for certain. In some ways it was when he'd been told to leave by Harry that first day. Or when he'd kicked him in the balls. Or maybe even when he'd comforted Harry while he bathed in ice water. But one moment burned bright and proud in his mind as the moment he'd known his feelings didn't just go one way. And that was true love wasn't It? When you both felt the same.

 

"It was when he came to get me from the train station one night," Louis explained softly. "A friend of mine had called to tell him I was there and-" Louis sucked in a breath. "I think it was the way he did something selfless. It showed me he cared."

 

Henry nodded thoughtfully, sucking his lip.

 

"Kind of like giving you his train ticket so you could go see him because you couldn't afford one even though he's supposed to use it to get to school?" Henry posed.

 

Louis felt a familiar rush of happiness in his chest. It had been a long time since he had done something sweet for Harry; something simple for the sake of showing him he cared.

 

"Yeah kind of like that," Louis smiled.

 

Henry beamed at him.

 

"Thank you, Sir. I won't tell anyone, I promise," he added as he turned to leave the classroom and Louis turned off the lights with pride burning in his chest.

 

//

 

"Great job, Josie! Marcus...use your toes to stop!" Harry called to his children; huffing a breath into his fringe with a mock eye roll towards the parents who were waiting to collect their kids.

 

"Harry, can you come to my house for tea?" Jennie, a shy but talented skater asked.

 

Harry bent a little to cup her cheek.

 

"I can't sweetheart. But thank you for inviting me."

 

"Is it because your husband's expecting you home?" Jennie wondered.

 

Harry lifted his brows.

 

Louis often came to pick him up; hovering at the side until the kids were connected with their families. He hadn't realised they'd noticed.

 

"Um, yes," he decided to go with honesty. "Louis will be expecting me home."

 

"He's very lucky," Jennie told him seriously. "He gets to have dinner with you _every_ night."

 

Harry laughed, looking up at the side for Jennie's father. He was a single parent and often came last, having to juggle work as well as child care.

 

Louis was there waiting, hands shoved into his pockets while he shyly mingled with the parents and children off the ice.

 

Harry felt his heart double-beat.

 

Louis still did that to him after a year and a half of living with him.

 

"We get to skate together though," Harry tried to placate her.

 

"Louis gets to skate with you too," she pouted. "I saw you."

 

Harry opened his mouth and shut it. He took Jennie’s hand to skate her to the side of the rink.

 

"Louis is very special to me," Harry told her in a low voice. 

 

Jennie blinked at him.

 

"He's your very best friend?" She checked.

 

Harry smiled with a nod.

 

"My very best."

 

"Does he save your favourite Haribo for you?"

 

Harry smirked at the little girl's measure of true love.

 

"He does."

 

Jennie sighed.

 

"Then I'm glad he's your best friend," she stated as she climbed off the ice to greet her father.

 

She passed Louis with a waddle in her little skates, pausing to tug on the bottom edge of his jacket.

 

"Are you Harry's best friend?" She asked. 

 

Louis crouched down.

 

"Hi, I'm Louis. You're Jennie, right?"

 

Jennie gasped. 

 

"How do you know my name?"

 

Louis smiled.

 

"Harry talks about you," he shared. "He tells me about all of you." He added softly.

 

"He's very pretty," Jennie shared. 

 

Louis grinned, eyes crinkling. He flicked a look over her shoulder to the soft haired man waiting patiently behind her.

 

"He is."

 

"You're very lucky," Jennie told him. "Will you give him an extra cuddle for me tonight?"

 

Louis bopped her nose.

 

"Absolutely. See you next week?" He checked.

 

Jennie hugged him around the neck. He gave her a gentle one armed hug in return, checking her father's face over his shoulder.

 

Karl didn't seem to mind the exchange.

 

"Look after Harry," Jennie whispered before moving towards her father.

 

Louis stood up, walking over to where Harry was now unlacing his boots. 

 

"How do they feel?" Louis wondered.

 

Harry tugged them off and zipped up his buckled Diors. 

 

"Good," Harry assured, stuffing his skates into their bag and slinging it onto his shoulder.

 

His green eyes bore the signs of tiredness and Louis wanted to kiss them away.

 

"I wanted to ask you something," Louis ventured, fidgeting a bit.

 

Harry cocked a hip.

 

"Now?"

 

Louis swallowed.

 

"Yeah, now," he decided.

 

 _Why not now?_ _Was now a bad time? Was it special enough? What if Harry-_

 

He curled his fingers around the string strap of Harry’s skate bag and carefully lifted it off his shoulder, resting it on the ground.

 

Louis quickly ducked with it, resting one knee against the rubber.

 

"Lou, what're you-"

 

Louis grabbed his hand; squeezing it to silence him.

 

"The day I gave you the rose ring I told you I wanted forever," Louis said. "But I didn't ask and I don't want to _not_ ask anymore," he breathed. "So, I'm asking," he looked up into Harry's shocked face, dipping into his jacket for a box.

 

He split open the velvet casing to reveal an engagement ring tucked into silk bedding. It was an exquisite diamond; big and showy with a row of tiny pink diamonds surrounding the large stone and a second tier of small clear diamonds. At each side three leaf-shaped diamonds sat, making the ring into a symbolic flower; a rose if the wearer chose to see it. The details softened the edges perfectly.

 

Harry had edges too that Louis had softened.

 

"Will you marry me?" Louis whispered, hand quivering as he held up the ring.

 

Harry looked at him and blinked; crumbling to his knees in front of Louis and wrapping him into a hard hug.

 

When he pulled away it was to kiss him consumingly; long fingers threading through his hair.

 

Louis pressed against him; clutching the ring box until Harry shifted to look at it. Louis held it steady as Harry grasped his wrist to see.

 

"Can you put it on for me?" Harry asked.

 

Louis coaxed the jewellery from the cushion and carefully slid it onto Harry's finger; considering his face as it nestled perfectly against his digit.

 

"The answer is yes, Louis," Harry told him then with an emotional gulp and another tender, longing kiss to his lips. 

 

Louis knew his answer the second he'd stumbled to his knees but to hear it spoken aloud was irrefutable.

 

"That could have been awkward," he joked breathily, overwhelmed. 

 

Harry studied his ring.

 

"It's so beautiful," he whispered. 

 

Louis thumbed his cheek. 

 

"Like you."

 

Harry looked at him.

 

"Like _you._ "

 

Louis smirked.

 

"Nope. Like you."

 

"You," Harry frowned petulantly, chin lifting in challenge.

 

"You," Louis argued with a brow arch.

 

"Fucking _you,"_  Harry insisted, hooking an arm around Louis ' waist to haul him close for another kiss; far more claiming and searing than before.

 

Louis didn't find it in him to argue.

 

"Can't wait to marry you," Harry mumbled against his lips before they merged into another heated kiss.


	20. Epilogue

Epilogue

 

"I think I've got a twinge."

 

Harry was laid on his front, hands stacked under his cheek as he watched Louis with a sleepy, dimpled smile.

 

Louis frowned.

 

"You want a massage, love?"

 

Harry leaned over to kiss him.

 

"Maybe... but we're getting married today."

 

Louis reached over to delicately brush a hand up Harry's arm. 

 

"We can make time..."

 

Harry smiled, tilting onto his side a bit.

 

"Yeah?"

 

Louis licked his lips.

 

"Yeah, although you don't seem to be in much pain, Princess..."

 

Louis flicked his eyes over Harry's bare side, lingering on his elegant laurel tattoos. They should probably be up and separated by now. But he wanted nothing more than to give Harry everything he wanted. He was soon going to make a life-long promise to do so.

 

"It's my glutes," Harry selected. "Feel tight and-" Harry huffed as Louis launched toward him; straddling his waist backwards so he was facing his feet.

 

"Tight and what?" Louis demanded.

 

"Thick."

 

The word sounded throaty and deep. 

 

"Are you sure you're not getting confused with your -"

 

"Hey!" Harry cut him off with a fond, back-handed swipe.  "Bride to be here, thank you. We'll have none of that degradation on my wedding day..."

 

"Finally admitting to being the girl in this relationship," Louis muttered as he dug his thumbs into Harry's ass-cheeks.

 

Harry yelped and almost shot off the bed if not for Louis weighing him down.

 

"You're right, you are pretty tight and thick here, babe..."

 

Harry snorted and kicked his feet a bit while Louis pretended he was going to give him a full massage. 

 

"See," his voice was exceptionally deep and a little breathy. 

 

Louis reached for a bottle on the nightstand. Oil. _Suitable for intimate use_. He smirked, brow lifting as he drizzled it artfully over Harry's globes, letting it glug down his crack.

 

"Lou-" Harry gasped, clenching his cheeks together.

 

Louis smoothed the oil over his lightly haired skin and bit his lip against a victorious laugh.

 

"Hm?" He slid his thumbs down the centre of Harry's ass-cheeks dragging them in a semi-circle outwards to part them slightly; dipping down to flick his tongue into the slick valley.

 

"That's not-" Harry choked as Louis lathed his tongue over his rim on the second split of his cheeks.

 

"Not what, princess?" Louis wondered.

 

"Not what I-" he broke off again as Louis flicked the tip of his tongue hard against his hole, twisting it slightly inside him. "Not fair," Harry mumbled in a whisper, lungs drawing air in sharply now as his body went lax.

 

"You taste incredible, though," Louis parted his cheeks, thumbs digging into the oiled flesh hard to hold them open as he lathed and twisted his tongue; flickering it inside him once more.

 

"We don't have to get married today do we?" Harry babbled breathlessly. "Let's just fuck. Want you to fuck me, Lou..."

 

Louis sat up, mock gasping.

 

"Not before we're wed," he complained. "You're wearing white, aren't you? I wouldn't want to lie to your mother..."

 

Harry laughed breathily as he squirmed under Louis, so Louis clamped his hands gently around the backs of his knees to keep him still.

 

"Just relax, Angel," Louis goaded him with a soft voice. "You're about to go back to heaven..."

 

Harry snorted and then moaned weakly as Louis kissed him intimately once more, lips trailing over the swell of his ass. 

 

Harry came against the bed; Louis' dick slipped between his cheeks and releasing hot and sticky between his thighs. 

 

"Do I at least get a cuddle?" Harry had stopped squirming and laid out long and sated as Louis carefully climbed off him.

 

Louis laid himself back down draped over Harry's back, fingers brushing through his still-wild hair and lips pressing sweet kisses to the back of his neck.

 

Harry's Mother had begged him to cut his hair before the ceremony, but he knew just how much Louis liked _touching._ He'd compromised with a trim.

 

And he was wearing white; or cream to be precise. A bespoke embellished suit fitted just for him with a silky off-white shirt that revealed his tattoos once the jacket came off.

 

Louis was going to be wearing a lovely complimentary chocolate brown ensemble.

 

Harry folded Louis' arms around his neck gently and sighed happily. Today he'd finally belong to someone he loved. 

 

//

 

"It would have been easy to walk away in the hard times and to give up when it felt too difficult to hold on," Harry murmured his chosen vows; glancing nervously at Louis.

 

Louis was his rock; a solid anchor for him which should give him no cause for uncertainty. But there was always that tiny chance that something had changed; that he didn't want to marry Harry anymore despite their months of planning.

 

Louis was mid-ring placement; Harry's hands quivering as they cupped his left one. He placed his other atop Harry's and brushed his thumb over his soft, warm skin. Harry managed a shaky smile and swallowed, taking a breath for courage.

 

"I promise to stand by you through everything that we face; through every storm or rain cloud; through every sunny day and rainbow. I promise to pirouette for you for as long as you love me."

 

Louis pursed his lips at the sappy words, heart thrashing in fear that his would sound insufficient in return.

 

He gently reached for Harry's ring and slipped it onto his finger.

 

"It's never easy to walk away, and holding on used to feel like the most difficult thing in the world because I was so afraid to share my heart," Louis swallowed. "But you give me strength and courage every single day."

 

Harry's eyes darted to his, intent and lush, lush green.

 

"I promise to stay and fight with you and to take you dancing in the rain. I promise to love you as long as you love me."

 

Harry's eyes glistened with tears and Louis nearly lost it; cuddling him in with a kiss pressed to his cheek.

 

"Not yet, Lou," he mumbled to cover his awkwardness; earning an emotional chuckle from the pews.

 

Harry was sure he heard his Mum sniffle.

 

"Louis and Harry, you have exchanged your vows and rings in symbolism of this mutual life-long promise to love and care for each other forever more...to seal this bond of sacred love, you may now share a kiss..."

 

 

Louis rolled his eyes and tenderly guided Harry back in with the arm already around his wrist to keep him steady. Although Louis was the shorter of the two, it was evident he was the driving force as he leaned up on his toes; Harry's curl downwards far more shy and becoming.

 

They kissed for a long minute; an achingly tender touch of their clinging lips; promises made and reassurance earned in the press of their lips.

 

"Love you," Louis whispered.

 

Harry smiled.

 

"Love you too."

 

The officiate finished the ceremony in good spirits; Louis ignoring protocol to hug Harry   while they were meant to be walking down the aisle and out of the church into the yard; where a car waited to take them to the reception. 

 

Louis cupped his cheek

 

"I can’t believe we're married. "

 

"Finally made you mine," Harry dimpled.

 

"Finally tied you down," Louis teased of the comment Jermaine made the night he almost got arrested. 

 

"Don't get me excited before dinner," Harry mumbled, slipping another sweet kiss onto Louis' mouth.

 

Louis knew better than to feel insecure. 

 

 

//

 

"...And if you'd have heard me the night I rang Harry and yelled at him to go fetch our Louis!" Niall regaled the wedding hall with his best man's speech. "You'd also know that it is I, Niall Horan who made sure these bastards not only got together but stayed together, too."

 

"By lying and cheating!" Louis heckled him fondly, cupping a hand beside his mouth to call out. 

 

Harry squeezed Louis' thigh and smiled besottedly into his face.

 

"Oh yeah," Niall smiled at his amused audience. "I did send Louis in to do a job when Harry had asked for _me,"_ he mused. "I admit I lied to make this happen...But look at them now huh?"

 

The audience cheered in agreement.

 

"Happiest fuckers I've ever seen," he winked at the pair. "And fucking in for life..."

 

Harry leaned over towards Louis to murmur in his ear.

 

"Will he stop saying fuck anytime soon?"

 

Louis smirked.

 

"He's Irish and had too much to drink," Louis lamented. "Doubtful. "

 

"Oi, you two," the microphone Niall was using screeched a bit with the sudden movement the brunette made snapping it to his mouth. "It's too early for sweet nothings," he chided.

 

Harry looked at him with pursed lips and raised brows; sassy.

 

"Who says?" He called with a grin.

 

He flicked his eyes around their guests, the people they loved most. He twisted a bit to let them land on Louis as Niall lifted his glass for his toast.

 

Louis was distracted by untangling his wine glass from the streamers decorating the table, lashes low against his lightly flushed cheeks; pink lips licked over by an equally pink tongue. 

 

When his blue eyes flicked up, Harry felt his gaze go directly to his heart, calling loudly to his soul who answered quietly back. 

 

 _I_ _love you. Forever._

 

"Ladies and gentlemen and all you Irish in the back," he began, earning a few rowdy shouts. "I ask you to please raise your glasses to the best friend a guy could ask for -also the most annoying let me tell ya- and the prettiest ballerina on ice...to Louis and Harry," he toasted. "To letting love win," he added with a shit-eating grin.

 

"To letting love win!" The crowd echoed, clinking glasses.

 

Harry slid his drink back on the table and cradled Louis' face in both hands, searing a kiss onto his lips. If they never had another moment,  then he wanted Louis to know _right now_ exactly how he felt. How he would _always_ feel even if they were fighting.

 

He almost loved fighting with him the most; the hot angry build up itching under his skin; releasing into gasping kisses and burning touches. Consuming sex and achingly sweet intimacy.

 

He wanted everything that came with Louis, really. He wanted it _all._

 

"Get a room!" Niall flicked Louis' ear as they broke apart, eyes clinging.

 

"I'm a Tomlinson now," Harry said, awed.

 

Niall snorted.

 

"You only just realised that?"

 

Harry looked up at him after reluctantly breaking eye contact with Louis.

 

"Great speech by the way..."

 

"I'm still waiting for payment of your gratitude in cheque form," Niall teased.

 

Louis slapped him on the thigh.

 

"You can be godfather to our first child," he promised, Harry looking at him again with a curious expression.

 

"We're having babies?"

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"We talked about it."

 

"But I mean..." Harry picked up his hand to hold it, pushing the fingers of his other hand through his hair. "You think I'm too young and-"

 

Louis brushed his lips against Harry's, glancing at Niall.

 

"I'm ready when you are." He promised.

 

Niall rolled his eyes at their sentimentality.

 

"Right, you seriously need to get a room," he decided as Harry leaned back in to kiss Louis some more.

 

\\\ THE END //

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you all enjoyed this story, I have a few more to post; keep looking ;)
> 
> If anyone is interested in beta-reading please message me on twitter @angkeats. I'm looking for someone who is reliable and can commit to the task :)
> 
> Ang


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